


Fated: An Overwatch Story

by Intergalactic_Bruh



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Canon, Comedy, Eventual Sex, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gore, Humor, Lena is a little shit, M/M, NSFW, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Rating: M, Violence, and widowmaker is a huge bitch, emily exists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-03-22 22:46:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13774194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intergalactic_Bruh/pseuds/Intergalactic_Bruh
Summary: What goes on in and out of the base now that Overwatch is back together? Adventure, shenanigans, drama, humor, love, and hate, all have a place in this organization. 90% canon, mixed with character interactions and adventures that go on behind the scenes (in my brain). Multiple character pairings. Rated M for violence, language, and sexual content.  Most characters will be part of story. First story. Critiques are absolutely welcome! I'll update the tags as more characters appear!





	1. Chapter 1

Dark grey clouds filled the sky over King's Row, obscuring the moon and preventing its glow to light up the night sky. A light sprinkling of rain began to darken the pigment of the rooftops and the streets below, washing away the puddle of blood that had congealed under the head of yet another ambassador of human and omnic relationships.

"Another thread to add to my web", sneered Widowmaker, as she packed up her gun and leaped across the rooftop over the body of yet another one of her victims. Or rather, another victim of Talon, the ones who truly decided the fate of the men, women and omnics, assigned to the tip of Widowmakers rifle.

Widowmaker, an assassin brainwashed and trained to kill, was used to spending her nights like this. Jumping from roof to roof, avoiding the eyes of the authorities, and destroying the lives of Talon's enemies. It was just like any other night, however on this night, there was no jet to pick her up and return her to Talon's headquarters.

Talon had decided to stir up some trouble all around the world that night, thinning out their supply of jets and pilots that would usually extract Widowmaker from a situation like this. Instead of using their resources to pick her up, a Talon member of high rank and insurmountable rate of survivability, they decided to make her wait, knowing that out of all of their agents, she would be most capable of handling her own for the night.

After searching for a few minutes, she came across an old abandoned apartment and snuck into the building through the window, shutting the it behind her and closing the blinds to block any light from escaping. After confirming the apartment was empty, she set down her rifle and small bag of belongings she wore on her back, and began to look around for any sort of functional light. Eventually, she found a lighter and some candles and placed them around to create a low glow of light for easier navigation of the space.

She eventually managed to find an unopened bottle of wine, and based on quick glance this wine was far from the quality of the wines she enjoyed at her French chateaux, but it would do.

 

* * *

 

"Oi! Angela, what the fuck, mate!" yelled Lena Oxton. After years serving in Overwatch, it still caught her by surprise every time the resident nurse injected her with her quick healing nanoprobe technology.

"Lena, please sit still. You are impossible", Mercy responded with a look of irritation as she pulled the needle out of Tracers back.

"Well I ain't the one stabbing me with needles the size of Winston's Tesla Cannon, now, am I?" Tracer responded, flustered by the pain in her back that was suddenly turning into a burning sensation as the nanites healed her wound. "I would think with that big sciencey brain of yours, you could figure out a more painless way of doin this, eh?"

"Now Lena, if I did that I wouldn't get to hear you scream" Mercy responded with a chuckle and a slight tinge of sarcasm in her soft voice. "Now quit being over dramatic."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I'll have you know, some of us don't like needles much."

"In all my years of being a doctor, I would have never guessed! Thank you for teaching me something new, Lena." Angela continued on with her sarcastic banter, paying no mind to the girl still sitting on the examination table waiting to be excused. "Now get back to whatever you were doing. I've got work to do."

Lena looked at Mercy with a sideways glance, wondering what the rush to have her leave the examination room was, though Angela's eyes never gave away the answer. No worries though, Lena would just pry it out of her. She was known to be... insistent. "What's the matter with you? More work than usual?"

"There is much to be done and I can't have you here distracting me."

"Awww no fair, love! I ain't distracting! I can help! Just tell me what to do and I'll do it!"

Angela always appreciated Lena's eagerness to help, but today was not the day. Angela had a visitor coming in very soon and she needed to clean the place up and finish some paperwork quickly, before the new Overwatch Captain came in for a full medical examination.

She has been looking forward to this exam all week and she had to make sure she was ready, and she wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of that. "Thanks for the offer, Lena, but there is nothing you can do for me here. Go see if Winston needs some help."

"You sure? You seem to be preoccupied. What's wrong?" Tracer quipped, a worried expression on her face.

Angela brought her hand to her forehead, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, letting out a quiet groan. "Tracer...."

"Alright! Fine! I'm leaving. Thanks for the healing, I guess", Lena said as she spun around with a quick wave of her hand above her head, bidding Angela farewell. "Mum's a bit grumpy today, apparently" Lena grumbled to herself as she exited the door of the medical center.

 

* * *

 

"Hey Winston, you need any help in here?"

"I'm sorry Lena, but nothing that you would be able to help with" Winston responded, as he pushed his glasses back up his nose and continued to type on the keyboard.

"Athena? You busy?"

Athena bleeped onto the monitor to respond to Lena's hasty invitation. "My apologies, Lena, but I am assisting Winston with his research. Might I suggest heading to the kitchen to see if the staff needs any help preparing dinner?"

"Ughh I guess... I'm just so bored." Lena brought her palm to her forehead, visibly irritated that everyone was too busy for her, and no one had a job for her to do.

"I'm sorry, Tracer. There isn't much for us to do at the moment. Small spots of Talon activity have begun to appear all over the world." Winston began to explain, catching Lena before she could walk off to the dining hall. "We aren't yet sure what is going on or if our help is needed, but I'll keep you updated if anything changes."

"Aye, Aye, Captain." Lena responded in a defeated tone, walking slowly away from Winston's lab and towards the mess hall, not looking forward to helping the kitchen staff. "Well, this sucks."

\---------------

Sunlight shone through a small crack in the wall of the abandoned apartment Widowmaker had taken residence in, and was shining directly on the empty bottle of wine she had finished the night before. Before she could get off of the couch, her communicator started vibrating and glowing a deep red.

Widowmaker stood and walked towards the communicator, picking it up and answering the call in her native French tongue. Within 30 seconds she gave her location to the Talon homebase and collected her things to meet with the extraction team in an hour.

She climbed to the top of the tallest building in her vicinity, set up a homing signal, and sat on the edge of the roof, waiting for her ticket out of this dump of a city. France was much nicer than this, remaining almost untouched by the Omnic uprising, especially in her home town of Annecy.

Oh how her patience ran thin in a place like this when she knew her newly purchased family chateau was waiting for her, along with a cellar of the finest wines, many which she had already drank. It was lonely there. Just the way she liked it. And what could be better than being alone with a glass and bottle of wine from the 1800's? Nothing that she could think of.

In less than an hour, a Talon jet dropped to the edge of the roof nearby, disabling its reflective cloak along the way, allowing Widowmaker to jump in before re-engaging the camouflage and taking back off into the sky.

 

* * *

 

"Hola, mi amiga azul. What brings you back to this fine shit hole?" Sombra, a hacker working for Talon, not "with" them as she always makes a point to let everyone know, asks as Widow enters through the door to the tech labs. "You do know we have no assignment yet, don't you?"

"I am aware. I'm required to meet with the tech lead for a checkup on my cybernetics." Widowmaker answers as she pushes past Sombra's legs that just happen to be stretched out in front of her, blocking her way.

"Que? You coulda said excuse me." Sombra kicked her feet back up on the table in front of her and Widowmaker just rolled her eyes.

Sombra was one of the few people in this world who did not act afraid of her, and it angered her to no end. How dare the tiny little Hispanic hacker act like Widow was not deserving of respect or fear. Sombra was lucky that she was working for the same team, otherwise she would have been dead long ago.

"Are they turning you even bluer? Because, I know it's not a normal skin tone, but it looks good on you."

"Are you attempting to flirt with me?" Widowmaker stops moving forward and slowly glances over her shoulder towards the hacker.

"I can if you want me to."

The smirk on Sombra's face leaves a burning feeling in Widowmakers chest, but not in a good way. In three quick steps, she brings herself back to where Sombra is seated and lifts her up by the collars of her jacket.

"Aye perra, what's your problem? I'm just fucking with you."

"You are my problem. If you do not leave me alone, I won't hesitate to break your neck and rip your head off of your spine."

"Lo siento. I didn't know you were that sensitive."

Before she can take a breath, the assassin throws Sombra into the chair she had been sitting in, and gracefully slips a knife from a sheath on her leg and brings it to the Mexicans neck, drawing blood from the light touch of the sharp blade. "Next time, I will not hesitate."

There is finally a flash of fear in her eyes as she tries not to flinch and risk being cut deeper. And with that, Widowmaker sheaths her knife and continues on her way, leaving Sombra to ponder her future life decisions when dealing with the deadly assassin.

Widowmaker enters the medical bay and is instructed to strip before stepping into the body scanner. She spots the doctor peaking at her with lust in his eyes and responds by giving him a quick glare, her eyes screaming a desire for murder, causing him to snap his head back quicker than what seemed humanly possible.

Talon employees knew not to fuck with the organizations top assassin, especially after the incident with a new recruit a year back. It took janitorial an entire day to rid the blood from the walls, floor, and ceiling of the small corridor the new recruit had decided to touch Widowmaker in. He didn’t even have a chance to learn his lesson because in mere milliseconds, his carotid artery was sliced clean by Widowmakers blade.

It only took 10 minutes for Talon's scientist to run a diagnostic scan and preform a quick software update on one of the many modules implanted in Widowmakers body, before she was able to get redressed and leave the bay.

There was no reason to be at the Talon base anymore, so she quickly collected her things and hitched a ride on one of Talons cargo jets that was headed for France only a couple hours from her estate.

 

* * *

 

 

"Lena, I swear to the gods, if you do not chill out, I will shove a tranquilizer dart into your spine so strong that you won't be able to move for a week." Angela wasn't playing games, and Lena was fully aware of that. If the goddess of healing is threatening you, it's best to run, because she won't hesitate to do exactly what she says.

"Sorry love! I'm just so bored! I need something to do!" Tracer argued back, still trying so hard to convince the kind doctor to trust her enough to run basic lab tests.

"Lena, I love you. You know that. But you really need to find something else to do, because you know I prefer to work alone. Go clean your room or help clean the place up. We all know it needs it after years of sitting around, unused by anyone but Winston." Mercy tried to suggest anything for Lena to do that didn't require sharing her own work load, but the look on Lena's face told her that her previous suggestions were not going to convince Lena to do her own thing.

"But mum!!" Lena draws out the uhh in mum the way a child would if their mother was telling them to eat their peas.

"No buts, Lena. There is nothing for you to do here besides drive me insane."

"Fine..." As Tracer hangs her head in defeat, her communicator beeps loudly. One glance at the screen tells her Winston is calling, and he only ever calls if he needs something.

"What's up, fuzzy!?" Tracer yelps into her end of the line.

"I would prefer if you did not call me that, Tracer." Winston responded, with a quiet tone of respite in his grumbly voice. "I have a job for you."

"Finally! I'll be right there for briefing!" Tracer jumped up off of her spot on Angela's desk, flinging paperwork around in a frenzy, rushing out the door of the infirmary towards Winston's lab.

"Damn it, Lena!" Yelled Mercy, but by the time the words left her mouth, Tracer was long gone.

 

* * *

 

 

“Bonjour, madame. Où allez-vous?” The cab driver asked Amelie as she sat in the back seat of the black car.

“Annecy, s’il vous plaît.”

“Comme vous le souhaitez.” The driver responded to Amelie, in his thick Southern French accent, and took off down the street.

During the flight to France, Widowmaker covered her exposed skin in a natural colored makeup, tied her hair in a loose bun, and put on a pair of dark, skintight jeans, a purple v-neck, and an expensive black leather jacket. Her natural beauty shone through her makeup and her clothing hugged her body. Those who saw her were often stunned by how beautiful she was, and none were the wiser to the blue skinned, brutal assassin that hid underneath the designer sunglasses and a stoic, emotionless expression.

She walked as gracefully as a runway model, and always seemed to float through the crowds thanks to the ballet training in her previous life.

On the job, she was Widowmaker, the cold-blooded man and omnic slayer who bowed to no one, but on her time off, she was just Amelie Lacroix, the wife of the mysteriously murdered Gerard Lacroix.

No one knew she was still alive, and she intended to keep it that way, using her maiden name, Guillard, whenever she was in public.

The Guillard’s had been well known in Annecy, owning a large Chateau on an island off of the coast of the city outskirts, however years of burdens on the family left the Chateau abandoned and forgotten, until Amelie recently purchased it from the bank and moved in.

She was sick of living in Talon’s bases, and after several years of saving her income and the small fortune left behind by her great uncle, she was able to rid herself of her Talon living quarters. Although she still had to sleep there on occasion, she was allowed freedom to travel back to her Chateau when they had no work for her to do. She had been with Talon now for over 10 years, and they trusted that the years of training, torture, and brainwashing had finally turned Widowmaker into the perfect and loyal killing machine she was designed to be.

“Nous sommes arrivés, madamé.” The cab driver snapped Amelie out of her reflection of the last couple years in Talon. Talon had no intention of ever treating her like a human being, but in her mind, she was not a human anymore. She could handle every needle they poked her with, every substance they injected, every sleazy doctor who stared at her naked form, and every chair she had been strapped down to and the tools used to torture her and turn her into a weapon. Sometimes, it even felt... good. Even the psychological torture became easy. She had been broken. She was their weapon. She was loyal and they never had to worry that their science experiment would one day turn it’s back on them. She was The Widowmaker.

 

* * *

 

 

“You want me to wot, mate!?” Tracer was in shock by the words coming out of Winston’s mouth.

“I want you to take a vacation.”

“The ‘ell is a vacation?” Tracer quipped.

“A break. A breather. A Holiday. I already booked somewhere for you to stay. You’re going.” Winston was visibly irritated as he kept pushing the glasses up that wouldn’t stay on his nose.

“But.. But, Winston! I hate vacations. I hate relaxing. What am I supposed to do anyways?? Where are you sending me? Is it even fun? Is there even anything to do!?”

Winston had never seen someone so stressed out at the thought of a vacation before. “You’re going to be staying in a small French Village off the coast of a beautiful lake. There is plenty to do there. You can go shopping, spend time relaxing at the cafe, you can go on the beach. I hear they even have a great local soccer team and a beautiful arena to watch them in. Plus, plenty of wineries an...”

“Winston, who the actual hell do ya think I am?? Beaches? Shopping? Wineries? All I’ve ever wanted in life is to be a Pilot! What in the living ‘ell makes ya think I want to spend time ‘relaxin’!?” Tracer was furious. It was bad enough being bored in the place she liked to be, but to be bored in a place she didn’t want to be? “This is fuckin outrageous!”

“Tracer, you know how I feel about using that word.” Winston had no idea what to do. He had never witnessed an agent complain an all expense paid vacation before. He was entirely besides himself. “You’re going.”

“Nah!”

“Yes.”

“Nah!”

“Yes!”

“What is all of this racket!? How am I supposed to get any work done when I can’t even hear myself think!?” Both Tracer and Winston froze at the uncharacteristic booming voice coming from the doorway.

“Angie, Winston’s trying to get rid of me!” Tracer complained to the blonde stomping into the lab.

“What are you talking about?” Angie responded, perplexed by what exactly was going on.

“He’s, mmmppphh! Mmm mppp mpphh!” Tracer was unable to get any words out as Winston clapped his hand to her mouth.

“I’m sending her on vacation. I am not “trying to get rid of her””, Winston answered Angela’s question more annoyed than the doctor had ever seen the silverback gorilla outside of his rage in battle.

“Tracer... just take the trip and say thanks.” Angie responded, rubbing her temples and looking down at the shorter girl.

Tracer blinked out of Winston’s grasp before Angela could finish her sentence and landed directly in front of the blonde. “You’re trying to get rid of me too?? I thought we were friends!” Lena looked at Angela with the biggest puppy eyes she had ever managed to pull off.

“Lena... listen to me. You need to take a break, okay? It’s good for you! Doctors orders.” The brilliant doctor was not about to be manipulated by the annoying Brit that had gotten so close her face that their noses were almost touching.

“Fine then.” Lena stepped back, crossing her arms tightly in front of her in a pout. “Guess I’m just going to spend a week in France gettin drunk at pubs and bedding pretty ladies.”

“God, Lena... too much information.” Angela said as she stepped back in disgust.

“Aww don’t lie, you thought about doin me before.” Tracer came back, purposefully trying to irritate the older doctor with a shit eating grin.

“I have only ever been attracted to other men. I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but you are not a man.” Angela had turned around and was ready to walk away when she heard Tracer snicker.

“I’m pretty sure Fareeha isn’t a man either.”

Tracer’s words stopped Mercy dead in her tracks. “Excuse me?” She snapped back as she glared back at the cheeky little Brit.

“I see the way you look at her. That silky hair. Those awesome abs. Don’t deny it.”

“Lena, stop. Fareeha is a good friend. Nothing more.” Angela turned back towards the door and continued to walk away. If she stuck around any longer, she was about to turn into battle Mercy, and no one needed to see the peaceful doctor like that. No one except for those who threatened to hurt the ones she loved.

“Lena... go. There is a transport ready for you in the loading dock. Some of your things will be ready for you at the hotel when you arrive in France.” Winston spoke in a monotone voice as he told Tracer what to do.

“You haven’t even told me where in France you’re sending me off to, yet.” Lena responded, visibly defeated.

“It’s a small village called Annecy. Please enjoy yourself. You’ve done so much work for Overwatch. You need to learn to relax before you drive yourself crazy.”

“Fine. I guess I’ll see you in a week, Fuzzy?”

“Don’t call me that, and no. Two weeks.”

“But you said one week just 15 minutes ago!”

“No, you said a week. I’m saying two. Goodbye, Lena.”

“But”

“Goodbye.” Winston turned back in his tire chair towards his monitors and continued working.

“Fine...” Lena slowly sulked away towards the loading dock with her shoulders slumped forward and her head down.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun was rising over the hills as Amelie watched from her porch sipping on a glass of wine. As much as she had grown used to the mineral conditions at Talon, it was still easier to drink and forget whenever she had the chance. She had a cellar of wine filled to the brim with some of the finest wines France had to offer. Many of the wines had been left in the cellar when the Chateau was abandoned and were older than the omnic crisis.

As she relaxed in her balcony, sipping on her drink, she saw a strange sight far off in the sky. A retired Overwatch carrier, carrying who knows what. Overwatch was not allowed to conduct their business anymore after the signing of the Petras Act, but that didn’t stop them from working under the radar.

She had dealt with them hundreds of times since their operation had been made illegal, and she knew she hadn’t seen the last of them. While they were still in operation, she was married to one of the head generals of the organization. The mysterious death of her husband wasn’t actually a mystery.

Talon had been trying to take down Gerard for years, but to no avail. Until one night, when they kidnapped his beautiful and innocent wife, Amelie Lacroix. Overwatch went into a frenzy trying to find her, but after a week, she had returned to their doorstep, seemingly unharmed, but intensely cold. After being cleared by the doctor, the field medic who went by Mercy, she returned home to her husband. A couple night’s later, he was dead. His throught slit by the hands of his wife. The Amelie that had come back home the week before, was far from the same Amelie she once was.

After killing her husband, she returned to Talon, where they spent the first year committing atrocities to Amelie, turning her into the ultimate weapon. They had destroyed her ability to feel emotion. They had tortured her until she desired to follow them. They injected her with chemicals meant to slow down her heart beat, turning her skin blue in the process and numbing the pain she could feel.  
The numbness didn’t stop them from torturing her. They began to psychologically torture her, whispering lies and hopelessness into her ears. Leaving her in chambers for weeks on her own, with speakers repeating the same thing. “Gerard never loved you. You were made to kill. Destroying Overwatch is your fate. You are worthless without Talon. You need Talon. Without Talon, you will die. Do as we say to achieve real freedom. You are hated. You are worthless. You are nothing more than a weapon. You are, Widowmaker.”

“I am Widowmaker”, Amelie repeated to herself aloud after reminiscing on the things Talon told her. Their conditioning had worked. And now, whoever was in that Overwatch carrier, needed to die. It was her duty. But first, she would enjoy her first day of vacation. Whoever was in that ship could wait a day. Today, wine was more important.  
“Madame, would you like me to grab you another bottle?” An omnic approached Amelie from inside of the home. It was funny, Talon hated omnics more than anything, but Amelie was indifferent. She killed them when she was told, but she also knew they were useful. She had hired a servant to take care of the Chateau hen she purchased the property. It had been a year, and she still didn’t bother to learn his name. He was an older model of omnic. Arguably less sentient than the omnics who protested for their rights on the streets.  
“Yes. Thank you, robot.” Amelie answered as she shooed him away with a wave of her hand. In a few short moments, the omnic was back with a new bottle of wine, the cork already removed, and a new glass.  
“Your wine, madame”, the Omnic said as he set down the bottle and class, and as soon as he came, turned around and wandered back into the mansion.  
Amelie stared over the bay, in the direction the Overwatch carrier had been headed.  
‘Now what could Overwatch possibly be doing in France?’


	2. Two

“We’ve landed, Miss Oxton”, the pilot spoke over the intercom system in the flight headset.

“Coulda gotten her faster if you woulda just let me fly.”

“You know the rules, Miss Oxton. You may collect your bags and exit the aircraft.”

“Fine.” Tracer snarled back at the pilot. He didn’t deserve mistreatment, but he was the only one there for Tracer to be mad at, even if none of this was technically his fault. Tracer grabbed the bags that had already been packed for her of her stuff, and exited out of the open door on the side of the cargo hold. “Do me a favor.” Tracer yelled up to the pilot. “When you get back, tell Winston I said, Fuck you, fuzzy!”

“I will not do that Miss Oxton. Have a relaxing vacation.” The pilot yelled back, before hitting the door button and closing Tracer outside of the aircraft carrier.

“Hmmph. Just my rotten luck.” Tracer whispered under her breath as she sauntered off to the black cab that was waiting for her.

“Bonjour Madam”

“Cut the French. I can’t understand you. Just take me here.” Tracer handed the driver the piece of paper with the name of the hotel on it, after rudely cutting him off and slouched back into her chair.

“Oui.”

The cab driver took off towards the hotel as he played a classical music station. As the car came closer to the destination, the music stopped and the radio host began to speak. Tracer couldn’t understand what he was saying, when she heard him say a name that she did know. Amelie Lacroix.

She had met Amelie on a few occasions at Overwatch dinners as she accompanied her husband. Lena had just been accepted at Overwatch when she first met the stunning dancer. Her grace blew Tracer away and her beauty was incredible. Tracer had never seen a more beautiful woman in her life.

Lena recalled leaning over to her friend and Blackwatch member, Jesse McCree when they entered a ball room the night of an Overwatch dinner, after spotting the beautiful woman, and saying “I’d hit that” under her breath to the cowboy. Jesse let a small huffy laugh out and shook his head, as the two continued to walk towards the table where they were meant to be seated.

A few moments later, Lena found herself staring at the woman on the other side of the table from her, completely in awe of her cheekbones, and her silky long hair, and her beautiful shoulders. What had she done to have a reserved seat at the same table as this piece of perfection?

Eventually, Amelie caught on to her admirer and winked at her from across the table, snapping Tracer out of her daze, causing her to blush and look back down at her food. After that night, their interactions remained simple and rare. Amelie was always draped over Gerard’s shoulder like a beautiful prize, and you could tell by the way they looked at each other, they were madly in love.

Amelie was stunning and put together every time Lena laid eyes on her. She was Lena’s unattainable celebrity crush and it drove Lena crazy. But one day, that all changed.

Lena hadn’t been with Overwatch for long when the beautiful Amelie went missing. Gerard was destroyed. Lena had been with him when innocent people were dying, and had seen him after a failed mission, but nothing affected him the way his missing wife did. Overwatch searched relentlessly, and a week later, Amelie came home. It wasn’t long after that night that Lena stood in the front of the cathedral to lay her superior to rest, while his widow, Amelie, went missing once again.

Not even three months later, Lena was to be the test pilot on a new jet that used time travel to move faster than any jet created before that point. It was named the Jet Stream, and Lena, the most revered pilot in the world, after her shining history with the Royal Air Force, was tasked with taking it on its first flight. Unfortunately, the flight did not turn out the way it was supposed to. The time jump mechanism in the jet malfunctioned and the jet, along with Lena, disappeared. She had somehow been lost in time, appearing in the current timeline at random moments. Eventually, Winston figured it out and created the glowing mechanism Tracer now wore over her torso. It was her chronal accelerator, and it allowed her to keep control over her own time, including giving her the ability to jump short distances back and forth in time.

Suddenly, Lena felt the cab come to an abrupt stop and the driver got out of the car to open the door for her. “Oi, thanks!” Tracer tries to swelter the sound of irritation in her voice over this trip, considering the poor driver who had nothing to do with any of it.  
“Je vous en prie”, the driver responded as he lent his hand to help Lena out of the car and lead her to the trunk to grab her things. Lena left him with a tip and a solute and spun around towards the hotel that laid before her. The hotel appeared immaculate from the outside, but Lena wasn’t interested in the hotel. She only needed to leave her stuff in her room and use it to sleep in at night, if she decided to bring women back to her hotel at the end of the night. Without paying much mind to her surroundings, she rushed to the check in counter, grabbed her room key and dropped off her belongings, before heading right back out of the door for the nearest pub.

As Lena walked down the streets, she began to regret not asking where the nearest pub was. She figured she would be able to find one a couple blocks away, being right in the center of town, but so far, she was having no luck locating any place to drink other than the random café’s dotted along the sidewalks. She kept on walking, determined to find a grungy place to grab a few drinks and talk to some of the locals, but the more she walked, the more she began to doubt that this town even had a pub. She walked around the corner of one of the many blocks she had already walked past, when she saw a huge, castle-like, building in the middle of a beautiful lake. From the distance, it looked like a gorgeous castle, but she could tell by the deterioration, that no one had lived there in quite some time. So, she kept walking, still hoping to find at least one shady pub. It didn’t even need to be grungy at this point. She just needed a drink.

It took another ten minutes of walking to finally come across a small pub on the outskirts of the town. There were three men smoking cigarettes on the pebbled sidewalk in front of the pub who didn’t even acknowledge the time jumper’s presence as she walked up and pushed on the large wooden door. As she entered the pub, the familiar smell of cigars, beer, and fried food greeted her, reminding her of the many pubs she frequented while in her home town of London. The bar was located near the back of the building, past dining tables lit by candles and dim vintage ceiling lights that dangled above the walk ways. The floors were a dark wood and the walls were covered in a dark red wallpaper with wood lining.

“Fucking finally.” Lena said as she sat down at the bar. She grabbed a beer menu to browse what they had in stock, settling on an interesting sounding dark stout with a French name. Maybe this drink would give the normally bubbly girl, her bubbles back.  
“Bonjour. Qu'est-ce que tu veux ?" Lena couldn’t understand what he was saying, but it was safe to assume that he was asking what she wanted to drink, so she simply pointed at the name on the menu and thanked him in his native tongue. It was obvious by her accent that she was not French, and as soon as the bar tender sat her drink down, he began to speak to her in English.

"Not from around here, are you ?" the bartender questioned Lena in his deep French accent as she took a much needed swig from the mug.

"Nah mate, my friends forced me to take a holiday so here I am." Lena responded, before taking another large gulp of the beverage.

"You were forced to take a vacation ? Sounds like you have nice friends."

"Nope. They were just trying to get rid of me. They can get stuffed for all I care." Lena said with bitterness in her voice, making it obvious that she was done with the conversation.

As she finished off her first drink, she noticed a dark figure catching her attention as it slipped out of the corner of her eye. She spun in her stool to see what, or who it was, only to see a very tall, slender woman, quickly leaving the pub after spotting the British woman looking back at her, her long dark hair almost getting caught in the door closing behind her.  
‘That was strange.’

 

* * *

 

 

“She should be here any minute...” Angela said to herself under her breath as she looked at the small watch hanging on her wrist. Lena had finally left the base after days of complaining about how bored she was and Mercy had been looking forward to this moment of peace and quiet to meet with the former Egyptian Military Captain, and current Overwatch Officer, Fareeha Amari, and catch up on Fareeha’s adventures on the field during the last 6 months.

A few minutes passed as Angela flipped through pages of the latest medical journal, when a buzz was heard over the intercom of her office.

“Dr. Ziegler, Captain Amari is here to see you.” Athena’s artificial voice rang over the loud speakers, snapping Mercy’s face out of the journal she was reading.

“Thank you, Athena. Send her in.” Mercy responded, setting the tablet down on the desk before her.

The doors slid open and a tall, muscular, and dark skinned Egyptian woman walked through, greeting the doctor with a warm smile on her face that was only worn when she wasn’t on the battlefield. Angela was always amazed by the beauty that scarred and battle-hardened soldier carried with her. Mercy was not one to find herself attracted to other women, but she could not deny the handsome beauty that Fareeha carried with her, even when she was hidden in her Raptora suit.

Fareeha smiled big as soon as she saw Angela standing up from the desk before her. “Ahh, my beautiful liebling! You have been missed!” Angela announced as she approached Fareeha with arms opened wide. Fareeha wrapped her arms around the smaller woman in a bear hug as she said hello in her native tongue.

“It’s been far too long, Angela. How have you been?” Pharah asked as she stood back from the embrace, holding Mercy’s arms in her hands right below her shoulders.

“Not busy enough. It’s been slow here during the last couple weeks. We even sent Lena off to France on a vacation to get her out of our hair. You know how she gets when she gets bored.” Angela explained, content being held by the beautiful Egyptian.

“Ahh yes. She is a ball of energy, isn’t she?” Pharah let out a chuckle and shook her head at the thought of a bored Lena Oxton.

“Too much energy, although I appreciate her spirit.” Angela responded, being released from Pharahs grasp. “How are you feeling? Any injuries I should check on while we are here?”

I’m feeling very well. A few scrapes and bruises here and there but nothing I can’t handle. I was actually hoping you would allow me the opportunity to take the beautiful and overworked doctor out to lunch?” Pharah gave Angela a smile that could have melted any man who looked her way, but Angela was obviously impervious to the Egyptians charm. Well, mostly.

“As in, a date?” Angela jokingly responded, causing Fareeha to blush lightly.

“No! I mean, I guess kind of. But not. Not a date. Just one friend taking another friend to get some food! But where the one friend pays for the other friend! Like, a thanks for the many times my life has been saved in battle. Ha...” Pharah gave Angela an awkward, full-toothed smile, as she rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. She never was comfortable with the thoughts of dates and relationships. Even if she was only treating her close friend to lunch.

“I’m just picking on you. I would love to get some food! I am more than capable of paying for my own, however.” Angela smiled back, hoping her calm tone would allow the dark-skinned woman to relax. It was funny seeing such a brave and battle-hardened warrior tense up over something so silly, but Angela didn’t want to cause the poor woman to panic.

“Wonderful! Where would you like to go?” Fareeha asked the small Swiss woman, her cheeks returning to their normal tint.

“I’ll leave that up to you. After all, you are the one who asked me out on a date.” Angela winked at Fareeha as she turned to grab her coat.

“Okay, I know what you’re doing here, and it’s working. I am sufficiently uncomfortable.” Pharah laughed as she said this, hoping to lighten the mood for herself.

“My apologies. It’s just so fun making you blush!” Angela put her hand over her mouth as she giggle at the dirty look the captain gave her. “Alright then, let’s go get that lunch. I am starved.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Torbjorn modified my suit so that I can fly on my own in battle! He also upgraded my gun so that it is more powerful. You won’t be the only one raining justice from the sky during our next battle!” Angela giggled at her own joke as she explained the newest upgrades to her Valkyrie suit to the Egyptian woman sitting at the table across from her.

The two women had picked an authentic Indian restaurant not far from the Watchpoint and were now sitting together enjoying their drinks. Fareeha sipped on her Old Fashion while Angela enjoyed her much deserved glass of wine.

“So, you’re telling me you don’t need me anymore? No more Pharmercy patrolling the skies? Raining justice from damage boosted rockets? A shame.” Pharah leaned forward on her chair giving the doctor a puppy eyed look mere inches from her face, emphasizing the details of fake pain in her eyes.

“Oh liebling, you know I’ll always be there to brighten up the skies with you!” Pharah leaned back in her chair, satisfied enough with Mercy’s answer and gave the Swiss doctor a wide mouthed smile from the other side of the oak table.

The women spent the rest of the lunch sharing stories and laughing about times past, giving no thought to the lateness of the hour or the quantity of their beverage consumption. After several hours of laughing at the others stories and chatting about the latest Overwatch news, the sky had become dark and stars could be seen shining lightyears away.

“It appears as though the time has gotten away from us and I am slightly drunk.” Fareeha laughed as she looked outside to see the sun had gone down.

“I didn’t e-even notice…” Angela was much smaller than Fareeha, yet had somehow managed to drink as much as her during their dinner conversation. It’s a good think at least one of them had a high alcohol tolerance.

“Wanna get out of here and, uh, head back to my place?” Pharah asked, flashing a cheeky grin and hoping Angela wasn’t too drunk to recognize her joke.

“If ‘your place’ is a reference to headquarters, then no. But, it is late, so I guess, yes…” Angela slurred over her words as she thought through a sufficient answer. “I was having such a great night I was hoping it wouldn’t end!”

“It doesn’t have to end. We could go somewhere else?” Pharah asked, hoping the doctor would decide to be a little irresponsible for once.

Angela thought for a moment before answering the soldier sitting across from her. “No, I should be up early tomorrow to continue some research. Let’s get out of here.”

“As you wish.” Fareeha set down a pile of cash for the meal and drinks before Angela could protest, grabbed the smaller girls arm, and headed for the door.

 

* * *

 

 

“I... I may have ‘hic’ had one too many... ‘hic’.” Angela spoke through alcohol induced hiccups that hadn’t stopped in the last several blocks the women had walked.

“Ha! And here I thought you Swiss had the same drinking habits as the Germans!” Pharah shot back, slightly less drunk than the other woman.

“We do! I would have outdrank you if you weren’t ‘hic’ twice my size. Damn these ‘hic’ hiccups!”

Pharah laughed at the blonde’s frustration then let everything grow quiet. For a few moments, not a noise came from the women besides the quiet sound of Angela’s hiccups.

“Watch out!” Pharah yelled out as she pushed into the smaller woman, nearly knocking her off her feet.

“For fucks sake! Watch out for what!?” Angela jumped back as she gave the, now, laughing Egyptian a startled look.

“Sorry, I thought I saw something but never mind.” Pharah explained through repeated giggles, laughing especially hard at Angela’s rare usage of such a crude word.

“What’s so funny? You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Angela became flustered, more so than she had already been thanks to the alcohol.

“But are they gone?”

“Are what gone? Who is they?”

“The hiccups. Are they gone?”

“Oh! I... I don’t know... maybe?”

“I learned that trick from some Americans. They claimed scaring someone could remove their hiccups. I guess they were right!” Pharah let out another chuckle, her stomach muscles sore from laughing.

“Well I am so glad that my fear is so amusing to you.” Sarcasm was a rare occurrence from the Swiss doctor, but this moment proved the perfect situation for it.

“We’re almost back. Are you sure you want to go back already?” Pharah asked, giving the same puppy eyes to Angela she had given her at the start of dinner.

“It’s 1 in the morning. What else are we supposed to do? Freeze in the middle of a dark field? Wander the sidewalks lit by dim street lights? Or perhaps we can go skinny dipping in the Mediterranean?” Angela joked back to the begging Egyptian whose eyes had grown wide at the thought of swimming in the sea, naked, with the doctor.

The long walk back to the base left Pharah soberer than she had been at the restaurant and she instantly grew red at the thought. Thank the gods it was too dark for Angela to see the new tint on the poor Egyptians face. “I mean, if you want to.” Pharah winced at her comment waiting for Angela to respond in disgust at the idea, however the response never came. “Angela?” Fareeha looked over to the doctor to see why she had grown quiet so suddenly, to find the other woman staring intensely at the sidewalk before her, cheeks flushed bright red, presumably from the alcohol.

“Let’s do it.” Angela announced as she looked up at Fareeha who was looking down at her with slight worry showing through her brows.

“Do what?”

“Let’s go to the Mediterranean Sea, get naked, and jump in.” Angela responded to Fareeha’s questioning, her response shocking the taller woman.

“I have a feeling that isn’t a good idea.”

“Which is all-the-more reason to do it! I’ve been sitting in my office for weeks doing boring medical paperwork. I need to let loose and have some fun for once.”

“The dinner wasn’t letting loose enough for you?”

“Of course not. That was just dinner! Let’s go do something crazy that we may or may not regret later.”

Pharah had never seen the doctor like this before; so very determined to break rules and take a chance on something so stupid and immature. However, once the doctor had set her eyes on something, it was nearly impossible to cut off her gaze.

“Fine. But if we get arrested for public indecency, you’re paying the legal fees.” Pharah finally answered, not willing to take the risk on her bank account.

“Fair enough. Here’s to not getting caught!” Angela tossed a huge smile in the Egyptians direction before running off ahead of her.

Gibraltar was a medium sized city that sat on a peninsula on the coast of southern Spain, and after a couple minutes of drunkingly running towards the coast, the two women made it to the shoreline of a dark and secluded beach.

“This’ll do!” Announced Angela as she began to strip off her clothes.

‘This is fucking crazy.’ Pharah thought to herself as she followed suit in removing her clothes stopping at her underwear. There was no way she was about to actually go in naked, after all, it’s not like Angela was going to actually... go..hmm...never mind. Pharah looked up to see a completely nude Angela watching her undress, waiting impatiently for the Egyptian to remove the rest of her clothing.

“Woah woah woah, I didn’t think we were actually getting naked.” Before Pharah could come up with an excuse, Angela pounced toward the taller woman, putting in an immense effort to unclip the clipless sports bra the Egyption was wearing.

“Take it off!” Angela quipped as she wrestled with the back of Pharah’s bra.

“Fine! Just get off me so I can do so. How drunk are you? My bra doesn’t even have a clip.” Pharah said, giggling as she pushed the smaller woman away from her, her face shining bright red at the sight before her. She felt slightly guilty for the dirty thoughts swirling through her head, but what else was she supposed to think when Angela was so shamelessly flaunting herself in front of her.

“Drunk enough to think this isn’t that bad of an idea!” Angela laughed, watching the taller woman strip off her remaining clothes.

“Let’s do this.” Pharah tossed her underwear to the ground and sprinted for the water, diving in once it was up to her knees.

Angela followed soon after, diving in despite the cold temperature of the water. This was so uncharacteristic of the two women. They were usually so composed and proper, but not at this moment. At this moment, they were irresponsible teenagers again, doing something stupid with no understanding of the repercussions if they were to be caught.

For almost an hour, the two women swam around in the water that was warmer than the night air, leaving clouds of steam to settle at the top of the water, further obscuring the view of the women from the shore. They let go, able to fully relax and enjoy themselves, something that was a luxury with the lifestyles they led. Between saving the world and keeping a team together, neither women had time to do this. To have fun. Lena would have loved this.

The woman eventually left the water, their bodies both pruning from the long soak. They hastily threw their clothes back on and headed back to the base, tiredly laughing about their adventures that night.

“I don’t want the night to end yet.” Pharah said to Angela, a slight look of worry in her eyes.

“Then it doesn’t have to. We have some liquor back at the base if you would like to further indulge with me.” Angela responded, her smile softening the worried look on the Egyptians face.

“I guess that’ll do, but I thought you had work to do in the morning?” Pharah questioned, wanting to make sure the doctor didn’t entirely regret everything in the morning.

“I work my ass off constantly. What’s one night of irresponsibility?”


	3. Chapter 3

Lena continued to drink well into the night, until she felt drunk enough to no longer be mad at her team. She nodded her head at the bartender as she paid her tab and left a lofty tip, then spun around in her bar stool and walked out of the pub.

The British woman had such a quick metabolism that she had already began to feel like the alcohol was wearing off after walking down the street for 20 minutes. It was late at night, although Lena wasn’t sure just how late, but she didn’t want to go back to her hotel just yet. She had been sitting around, cooped up for weeks, so the thought of a relaxing night in a fancy hotel sounded about as bad as watching paint dry.

As she walked down the cobblestone streets, she remembered the fancy looking mansion that was resting on a small island in the middle of the lake and decided to head back out there, curious as to what exactly that building was. Admittedly, she hoped it was a haunted mansion that she could sneak into and explore. Unfortunately, it turned out to be much, much worse. 

The height of the building only grew as Lena drifted closer to it in the small boat she snagged off the shoreline. She didn’t steal it, she was simply borrowing it. It would be returned to it’s rightful place before anyone would notice it was gone. All the lights were off from where she was, and the building didn’t seem to be inhabited. After all, who would go through all the trouble to live in the middle of a lake?

The building itself was beautiful from far away, but the closer Lena came to it, the more she could see all the rot and deterioration it had endured over the many years it must have been abandoned. Its stone walls were full of cracks and piles of crumbled stone brick laid at the base of the mansion. Grass could be seen growing through the cracks of the stone foundation that the large building rest on, and vines climbed up the sides of the old brick walls and regal fences along the outer patios. As she circled the building, she came across a docking point. There weren’t any boats docked, so it was safe to assume there was no one living there. 

Lena climbed out of the shoddy boat and tied it up to one of the docking beams then straightened out her jacket and quietly walked towards one of the many high arching windows. Some of the glass was broken, but much of it was still intact. She peered in to see what appeared to be old wooden storage crates, paint cans and several pieces of furniture covered in sheets. Not a single hint of life was to be seen.

The main door that led to the inside, was locked by a chain, so Lena needed to find another way in. She blinked around the building, finding a window that had been cracked open. She would need to break it the rest of the way to fit, but it’s not like anyone was living there to care. So, she blinked up using leverage from broken pillars to reach the window, and kicked the glass out from the stone frame.

Slowly, Lena looked through the window, checking on the height of the fall on the other side. The window was over 15 feet off the ground on the inside, just high enough that the time traveling woman could use one of her blinks to land softly on the wooden floor below. 

Once inside, she began to look around, remaining acutely aware of the amount of spider webs that hung from the ceiling and the strange amount of both empty and full wine bottles that littered the tables and floors. As she approached one of the end tables, she saw an emptied wine glass with dark purple lipstick stuck to the rim, along with circular wine stains and empty bottles. 

Upon further inspection, she noticed a distinctive hand print in the dust on the table. The print slid off towards the edge, as if someone had used it to catch themselves from falling, and the finger marks were long and thin, presumably from a female. 

‘That’s strange… This looks recent. There isn’t a spec of dust on this glass.’ Lena thought to herself as she continued to study the scene before her, suddenly beginning to wonder if no one really did live there.

Her question was quickly answered as she rounded the corner and entered what appeared to be a library, with books filling shelves from the ceiling to the floor. That wasn’t all that was in the library though. Just one glance at a rifle that rested on a desk, told her she had just walked into the wrong persons house. She recognized it. That same rifle had been pointed directly at her many times before. Widows Kiss.

But why was Widowmakers rifle sitting there in the open? Lena continued through the room and noticed large military grade containers full of Widows venom mines, grappling hooks, and rifle ammo. She had stumbled into what appeared to be the blue woman’s hideout. 

‘Weird. I always assumed she lived in some hidden underground Talon bunker. Or that one cave in those old movies about little hobbits throwing a ring into a volcano and there was that giant bitch of a spider in that last movie. That thing was terrifying.’ Lena thought to herself as she continued to look through the room. 

One the desk that the rifle leaned against, was a laptop that seemed to be working. Lena ran her fingers over the touch pad waking the computer up and opening the most recent page it had been on. ‘I would think she would at least have a password…’

The open page was of an email detailing a vacation. “I guess even evil cunts need a break now and again.” Lena said aloud to herself as she continued to read the email. It was signed to an Amelie Guillard. Lena knew Widowmakers real identity was that of Gerard Lacroix’s late wife. Of course, as the story goes, she murdered him in his sleep and ran off to be one of Talon’s puppets. Guillard must have been her maiden name before she was married and took on the last name of her husband.

A glint of light reflected off something on the book shelf, grabbing Lena’s attention from the computer. She walked towards the shelf and carefully lifted a framed picture off it. She had seen this photo before. Gerard had one just like it on his desk at Overwatch HQ back in the day. Why would Widowmaker have a picture of herself and Gerard on their wedding day? Is she so twisted she likes to keep it as a trophy, reminding her of what she had done to him?

That sick bitch had sliced his neck in his sleep. Overwatch personnel found him on his bed soaking in a puddle of red. His cause of death wasn’t bleeding out, but asphyxiation, from drowning in his own blood. A brutal and shocking murder presumably, though not proven, done at the hands of his own wife. 

Suddenly, Lena felt cold metal pushed against the back of her skull. “shit” she cursed under her breath, wishing she had paid more attention to her surroundings.

“Put. It. Down.”

A woman’s voice with a thick French accent spoke behind Lena slowly and clearly as the woman held her gun to the British girl’s head. 

Lena carefully set the framed photo back where it belonged and slowly raised her hands above her head, as to tell the woman behind her, not to shoot. 

‘Maybe breaking into this place wasn’t the best idea ever, you cockamamie Brit”, Lena thought to herself. 

\-----------

It was 3 in the morning by the time the women arrived at the base. Not a single person was awake this late. Even Athena had shut off most of her protocols, only staying active enough to monitor the security of the Watchpoint. 

The two headed towards the empty bar located at the back of the dining area of the base, digging through cupboards, looking for just the right poison to regret drinking the next day. 

“How’s about some tequila?” Mercy asked the Egyptian who had elected to sit at the bar while the Swiss doctor picked out the drinks.

“Are we trying to get white girl wasted tonight?” Pharah laughed at her own joke, noting the irony of the dark-skinned Egyptian getting drunk on tequila. 

“Vodka?” 

“Better, but I was thinking of going with something a bit darker.”

“There’s some aged scotch up here that, based on the dust accumulation, no one has touched in two decades.”

“You know, there is probably a good reason to that.”

“Yes, the reason being scotch tastes like dirt.”

“Peat. It tastes like peat and oak.” One of Pharah’s favorite thing to drink was a nice warm glass of scotch so she decided to give the old bottle a try while Angela did the same.

“I can already tell I am going to regret this.” Angela said as she lined the shot glass up to her bottom lip.

“Cheers.” Pharah said as she lifted her glass off the table and poured the amber liquid into her mouth, savoring the flavor of the oak barrel aged scotch.

“Blegh that was awful!” Angela yelled out after forcing her body to swallow the burning liquid. Pharah simply laughed at the other woman’s disgust as she poured herself another shot, offering to fill Angela’s glass once more. “No, please no. I’m going to get myself some of that tequila now.” Angela waved her hand in front of her face, motioning for Pharah to keep the aged beverage away from her range of smell. 

The women should have stopped after the second shot, just like they should have gone back to the base right after dinner, but this was a night where should-haves obviously didn’t matter.

Pharah leaned back in the bar chair, exhaling deeply as she greeted the feeling of calm drunkenness late in the night.

“So, tell me, Angie...” Pharah started, as she looked over at the Swiss woman next to her. “Have you been seeing anyone on base or in the city?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean dating. Are you dating anyone?” 

“Well you could have just asked that way first.” Angela laughed, still not quelling the Egyptian woman’s curiosity. 

“Well, are you?” Pharah asked again.

“Of course not! Who here has time for that anyways?” Angela finally responded, laughing at the idea of actually maintaining a relationship in this place.

“Was it not you who told me it’s been a boring last couple of weeks, earlier this evening?” 

“Okay, fine. There is simply not a man who interests me in this entire base. Not even one interesting enough to flirt with.” 

“I don’t blame you there. I saw the employee roster and I would have to agree with you. There are some interesting women around here though.”

“Pharah, you know I am not one to become attracted to other women.”

“But how do you know if you have never tried?” Pharah asked, giving Angela some time to think. 

“Oh, my dear Fareeha, you know just as well as I do that is not how it works.” Angela responded again to the Egyptians questioning. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious. I hadn’t seen you in 6 months and a lot can change in 6 months.” Pharah answered, smiling at the woman seated next to her. 

“Ah yes. Like one’s sexuality.” Angela laughed as Pharah grew slightly defensive, claiming that wasn’t what she had meant. Angela stood from her chair, with the intention of saying goodnight and returning to her room, but as soon as she stood up and allowed the blood to flow through her veins, the alcohol hit and the doctor fell over.

Pharah reached forward quickly, catching the smaller woman in her arms as Angela fell into a fit of giggles. “Woah there, you need to stand up a bit slower next time when you’ve been sitting around and drinking all day.”

“I see that now!” Angela laughed as she steadied herself in the other girl’s arms. “Take me back to my room?” Angela smiled softly and asked, knowing she was a bit too drunk to make the trip through the halls without falling face first onto the linoleum floors of the halls. 

“Anything for you, Angela.” Pharah smiled as she looked down to the woman still in her arms, helping to steady her back on her feet. 

The women began their journey to the dormitory section of the base, Angela leaning heavily on the tall Egyptian who had agreed to take her back to her room. 

One they arrived at the door, Pharah let Angela dig her keys out of her bag before helping her unlock it and opening the door for her, leading her towards the bed.

As soon as Fareeha laid Angela on the bed, the doctor grabbed the taller woman by the color of her shirt and pulled her face down, only a couple inches away from her own. 

“You’re cute.” Angela stated, smiling at the woman above her with quickly reddening cheeks. 

“And you’re drunk. Now, lay down and get some rest.” Pharah tried to remove the hands that were clenched to her collar, with no luck.

“Stay here.” The doctor pleaded. “It’s so lonely here.”

“But I have my own room and my own bed go get to. You’re alright. I’ll see you in the morning, hangover and all.” Pharah smiled down at the other woman, knowing all too well how shitty she was going to feel when she woke up. 

Without warning, Mercy pulled Pharah down towards herself, closing the gap between the women, taking the Egyptian into a surprisingly rough kiss. This action sent waves of shock and pleasure through the Egyptians body, and she continued to kiss the doctor laying on the bed below her, completely entranced by the softness of Mercy’s lips, paired with the sloppiness of the kiss.

“Why end the night now? Let’s do it.” Angela said as she pulled back from Pharahs lips.

“Do what?” Pharah responded, confused by what Angela was asking of her. 

“Fuck.” Angela said with such a seriousness that Pharah couldn’t tell if she was being serious or if she was very good at joking. “Really. I want to feel your lips on my body. Your fingers caressing my skin, your tongue on my...”

“Haha ha okay, Angie I think it’s time for bed!” Pharah responded, startled by the proposition from the straight woman beneath her. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re asking. 

“I know exactly what I’m asking. I’m asking you to end this night on a high note and fuck me.” Angela reached her head forward again, catching the Egyptians lips with her own and wrapping her arms around the strong woman’s body, pulling her down on the bed as she laid back.

“Angela... no... we shouldn’t...” Fareeha continued to argue between kisses as Angela moved her lips down the other woman’s neck. “Angela... Stop.” No matter how much Fareeha said stop, she couldn’t bring herself to remove her body from the other woman’s grasp. She was so overtaken by beauty and lust, that no matter how bad of an idea she knew this was, she couldn’t find the strength to stop.

Angela continued kissing down her neck as she slipped her hands into the front of Pharah’s pants.

“Oh fuck...” Pharah whispered as the angelic doctor ravaged her neck, leaving marks in her path, and shoved her hand deeper into the Egyptians pants, bringing her fingers dangerously close to her private area. 

“Oh fuck? I haven’t even touched you there yet.” Angela said, with a soft giggle as she moved her face back up towards the other woman’s and began kissing her on the lips again, bringing her fingers down until she ghosted the fabric above Pharahs center, sending shivers through her body.

Suddenly, Pharah became immensely aware of what was happening and pulled herself off Mercy in one quick jerky motion. 

“Pharah, where are you going?” Angela whined, slightly blurring her words together in her state of drunkenness.

“You don’t understand how badly I have been wanting this to happen. Since I was old enough to remember, I’ve been deeply attracted to you. But this isn’t you, Angie. This is drunk you. I want you, not drunk you. And you won’t even remember this in the morning.” Pharah slowly moved away as she divulged her feelings to the blonde woman who was now sitting up on the bed.

“Pharah, I promise I’ll remember. Just come back here. I want this so bad.” Angie reached forward, attempting to grab Pharah by the hand, but the Egyptian moved further back once more. 

“I’m sorry, Angie... I just can’t. I had a great night with you, so let’s not ruin that. Just go to bed and I’ll speak with you tomorrow. I’m sorry.” Pharah continued to repeat how sorry she was as she slowly inched away toward the bedroom door, becoming increasingly sad by the look of disappointment in Angela’s face. This might have been Pharah’s only chance to share this experience with someone she cared about so deeply, even if the Swiss doctor was drunk and would have never done this if she was sober. Even if, or rather when, Angela woke up in the morning remembering nothing of what had happened. 

Continuing was not something Pharah felt right doing. She would have felt as though she was taking advantage of the drunk doctor, and she would never be able to forgive herself for that. 

Pharah arrived at her room located at the other end of the hall and shut her door, throwing her clothes off and laying hastily on the bed. Such a wonderful night that could have been even better if she didn’t feel so obliged to live up to her morals. 

She knew she had made the right decision even if it felt wrong and she wasn’t going back on it. Waking up the next morning to a forgetful Angela and a pounding headache would absolutely numb the pain that she felt right now. 

The pain of running away from something she had wanted for so long. The pain Angela was not sober enough to feel and too drunk to care.


	4. Chapter 4

“What the fuck are you doing in my home?” Widowmaker stood behind Tracer, with her finger ghosting behind the trigger of a pistol she carried around with her when she wasn’t working. Anger seethed from her voice as she demanded the intruder tell her why she was snooping around in her chateau. 

Tracer kept her hands over her head and cleared her throat before speaking to the assassin standing behind her with a gun to her head. “Sorry, love. I didn’t know this was your place. I swear it.”

Widowmaker pushed the barrel of her gun further into the speedster’s skull, “I did not ask if you knew where you were. I asked, what the fuck are you doing in my home.” She spaced her words out, speaking slowly and pronouncing each syllable so clearly, that Tracer could feel the force of her breath with every word. 

The room remained silent. The usually talkative girl, completely silent, as if thinking over her words carefully before speaking. In most cases, she would simply use her accelerator to jump away, but she feared the quickness of the assassin’s fingers on the trigger would move faster than Tracer could get away. 

“I promise to you, I was only exploring. I thought for sure this place was abandoned. It doesn’t look like its seen a person in decades.”

“And what exactly are you doing here in France?”

“My mates sent me here ‘cause they were sick of me.”

“And why, cherie, should I believe you?”

“I aint ever lied to you before, have I?” 

Widowmaker scoffed at that, finding it almost cynical that Tracer was claiming she had never lied about anything to the assassin, as if that would solve the current problem. She could let her go, but what would be the fun of that? “You must be bored, no? A small town like this has nothing for a girl like you.” 

Even in this dangerous moment, Tracer couldn’t help smirking at the way the French woman said girl. She had always found it cute. Almost endearing. Of course, there was nothing cute or endearing about this situation. As Tracer began to speak, she attempted to slowly turn around to face Widowmaker, withholding her better judgment, but was stopped as the assassin shoved her over the desk with the edge of the gun and the back of her forearm. 

The blue assassin leaned into Tracer, digging her shoulder into the British woman’s back, effectively smashing the smaller woman’s face into the desk, before leaning down and whispering into her ear. “I did not tell you to turn around, did I?”

Her question was answered by a muffled sound, Tracer unable to move her mouth to form words, when her cheek was firmly held against the hard wood desk. The Brit found it increasingly difficult to breath under the strain of the woman pinning her down, her chest being pushed into the edge of the table. 

“Now, I am going to release you, but if you try to run, I will not hesitate shoot you.” The seriousness in Widowmaker’s voice was not to be taken lightly, as she slowly brought her weight back off the girl beneath her, and drew her gun back, keeping the barrel trained to the smaller woman’s head. 

“Now you may turn around.”

Tracer slowly stood up straight and turned around to face the assassin, making sure to keep her hands above her head. Once she made eye contact with her assailant, she slowly lowered her arms, leaving her palms open and away from any pockets near her body. 

The long, slender fingers of the French woman were drawn out towards Tracer’s body to pat her down for anything that could possibly be a danger to herself. Even if Tracer was hiding a weapon somewhere, it wasn’t like Widowmaker wouldn’t be able to stop her. She grabbed the office chair and sat in it, crossing her legs as she rested into the back of the treated leather. Tracer mimicked her movements, slowly shuffling to an accent chair next to the desk and taking a seat on it’s thick, dusty cushions.

She watched as the demeaning woman stared down at her, grabbing a bottle of wine off the floor next to her lithe figure, and pulling the cork out with her teeth. ‘Damn’, Lena thought to herself, unsure if she was scared or immensely turned on by the sexy mysteriousness of the woman sitting across from her. “There are a few glasses on the bookshelf behind you. Pick two up and hand them to me.” 

Tracer did as she told, slowly and meticulously turning in her chair to grab the wine glasses Widowmaker was speaking of. She grasped onto their fragile stems carefully, handing them over to the woman seated across from her. 

Widowmaker grabbed the glasses before pouring a significant amount of wine into each cup and handing one to the confused Brit before her. “You interest me. I can see you are scared, but the redness of your cheeks leads me to believe that something else is going on in your foolish little head. Tell me, what are you thinking about right now?”

Lena took a large gulp from her wine, attempting to will away the redness of her cheeks, but her admittedly foolish mind wouldn’t stop thinking about the long legs that sat crossed, attached to the woman before her. She despised this woman yet couldn’t ignore just how attractive she was in the dim candlelit light, holding a glass of wine, while wearing what appeared to be a tight, black cocktail dress, with her hair done up in a loose bun. ‘Fuck Lena, why do you have to be so gay at the worst damn times?’ she asked herself, forgetting that Widowmaker had just spoken.

“Ah, nothing good I suppose. Your face just grew a deeper shade of red.” Widowmaker spoke with a sense of superiority, obviously finding it entertaining that the usually loud girl, was completely speechless in her presence. 

“Nah! I just… it’s the alcohol! I had been drinking at the pub all night! Tracer grew increasingly defensive as the assassin’s eyes bore holes right through the Brit’s lying façade.

Widowmaker took a long drink from her glass, her eyes not leaving Lena’s as if attempting to read her exact thoughts. “And here I thought you never lied to me? How disappointing.” An evil smirk crawled onto her face as she brought the glass back down to her lap and continued staring at the defenseless woman across from her.

“Look, I had no idea this was your house, I swear. I wouldn’t have trespassed if I had known someone lived here!”

“Shhhhh.” Widowmaker rolled her chair closer, bringing her finger up to Tracer’s lips. “You know I can’t allow you to leave this place alive.”

“But!” Tracer quipped before Widowmaker pushed her finger onto her lips harder, causing the smaller woman slight pain. 

“You know where I live. How do I know you will not go back to Overwatch and tell them all you have seen here?”

“I promise I won’t say a word if you let me leave! I promise! I’ll save the fighting for the battle field. Just please let me go. I’m not dying in this shitty town on this shitty vacation. Not like this.” Tracer lowered her head, bringing her gaze to the ground, frustrated that it had even come to this. She always imagined dying in a huge battle, people commending her as a war hero; A savior of the people who laid down her life for them. Not as a hostage in a house that she broke into. 

“Gods, you are so boring when you sit there and beg for your life. I’ll make you a deal. If you can escape, I will let you live. You may continue your “vacation”, but you mustn’t tell anyone about this place. If you do, I will find you when you are deep in your sleep, and take you, along with your friends in Overwatch, and I will slowly kill each one of them while you watch, before killing you too. Understand?” Widowmaker looked quizzically towards Tracer, raising an eyebrow when Tracer began to speak up.

“I have a request.”

“Yes?”

“Before we begin, can we finish this lovely bottle of wine? Just in case this is my last drink.” Tracer asked, surprising Widowmaker with the sincerity of her question. 

“Sure”. Widowmaker leaned in and brought the bottle back to Tracers glass and topped it off, before returning to her own glass and doing the same. 

\----------

Noon arrived, and the doctor slowly rolled out of bed, throwing on the nearest pair of sweatpants and an Overwatch tee, before heading over to her bathroom.

What greeted her in the mirror was enough to scare a small child. Her hair was everywhere, sticking up in places she didn’t realize was possible, and she had dark bags under her eyes, a clear sign of a late and restless night. Her head pounded, and she struggled to remember what she had done last night to feel so shitty the next morning. 

After cleaning up and brushing her teeth, the doctor groggily walked towards the cafeteria, hoping a greasy breakfast would help cure her hangover. As she walked through the doors, she noticed Fareeha sitting at a table in the back corner, picking at her breakfast, looking almost as miserable as Angela felt. 

She made her way to the kitchen and filled her plate with eggs and various meats then set out to grab a seat across from the Egyptian woman sulking in the back.

“You look hungover.” Angie stated as she took a seat across from Fareeha. The poor captain looked up with a startle, not realizing that someone had been walking her way.

“As do you.” The Egyptian said as she forced a smile back at the beaming angel before quickly breaking eye contact and looking back down to her plate of food.

“What in the world happened?” Angela asked as she reached her hand out to touch a mark on Fareeha’s neck.

“Nothing.” Pharah quickly responded, swatting the doctor’s hand away from her neck. “I think it’s just a rash.” Pharah said as she looked back down on her food, a bright red hue covering her cheeks.

“Mein gott... I’m so sorry... I did that to you, didn’t I?” Angela looked at the woman across from her with worry in her eyes as she began to remember some details of the previous night. “Shit. I am so sorry...”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. We were both really drunk and sometimes shit happens when you’re drunk. Not a big deal.” Pharah responded quickly, not wanting to make Angela feel bad for her sloppy actions when she was drunk.

“Oh gods, did we...”

“No. We only made out for a little bit. Don’t worry.” Pharah answered, trying to put Angela’s worries to rest. “It’s totally fine. I had a great night with you last night.”

“I’m sorry for ending it on such an... awkward note. I don’t know what came over me...” Angela said, her head falling down with shame. 

“Seriously, it’s fine. Stop worrying about it.”

“What did I say?” Angie asked, confusing Fareeha by her question.

“What do you mean, what did you say?”

“I mean, what did I say last night that led to... those?” Angela asked again, pointing at the hickies on the Egyptians neck.

“You didn’t have to say anything. You just went for it.” Pharah said, letting out an awkward chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. “But technically you said, and I quote, ‘let’s fuck’.” 

“Mein gott I am such a pig when I’m drunk...” Angela said as she laughed at herself for being so crude. 

“Again, it’s okay. We were both pretty drunk and alcohol can do some strange things when consumed in copious quantities.” Pharah let out another awkward laugh still attempting to lighten the mood but failing miserably.  
“Fareeha…” Angela spoke the before reaching out to lay her hand on top of the mocha-skinned woman across from her. 

Pharah pulled away before Angela could touch her and stood up quickly, bringing her tray of food up with her in one jerky motion. “I’m sorry, I must go. I have a lot to do today.” Before Mercy could say another word, the Captain had disposed of her tray and shuffled out of the cafeteria door.

“Shit” Fareeha whispered to herself as she stormed down the hallway towards the training center. She thought that some breakfast would clear her head, but all she could think about was what had happened the night before. Angela didn’t even seem to mind, but she also didn’t quite remember it. It tore her up inside to see Angela wave last night off as a, “oh gosh look at little drunk me, how silly”. Pharah would have killed to hear Angela confess her feelings for the Egyptian woman, but she knew in her heart that something like that would never happen. She wanted to slap herself for even considering a different outcome. 

As she approached the training center she saluted the guards by the doors and walked in, trying her best to raise her head up high and show her confidence and strength for the people under her. It was difficult, but nothing she had never done before. She remembered a time back when she was a chief of Helix Security. She had been on a mission to take down Anubis with her Captain and the rest of her squad, when they became overpowered by the omnics that had been hacked by the god program. 

Her Captain was killed that day, and many of the other soldiers hurt, but Pharah couldn’t, no, wouldn’t give up. She managed to lead her team to victory after a long and intense battle, being promoted that day as the team’s captain in the security forces. She wouldn’t let her team down. Not again. She would ignore the pain in her heart and raise her head high because her team needed her to be a leader at that moment more than ever. It wasn’t long after that day she became a member of Overwatch. 

Today was a strength training day, so she stopped in her small locker room office and changed into a pair of futbol shorts and an old Helix tee with the sleeves cut off along with the sides of the shirt, before slipping on a pair of gym shoes and heading out into the training arena. The arena was large, with different areas designed for specific types of training. There was a shooting range, along with a room designed for battle simulations and sparring matches that took up one half of the large room, while the other half contained weight lifting equipment, a rock wall, and a basketball court, with a small section in the corner set aside for physical therapy. 

The ceilings were over two stories high, and a room sat outside of the second story, acting as an outlook and control center of the gym. There, Overwatch leaders would watch their soldiers train, while techs sat at computers, recording, and storing statistics that were used to help in the training of Overwatch operatives. It also happened to be the room where Angela would sit and watch how operatives performed, especially if they had been recovering from injuries.

Pharah began to warm up as she waited for her team to arrive. She always tried to show up early so that she would be warmed up and ready to go, and today, despite the morning hangover, was no different. After 30 minutes, members of her team began to show up, and in 10 more, she began barking orders at them, making sure to push them hard as they trained. They couldn’t afford to be weak on the battlefield. Not when so much depended on them to take care of Overwatch’s security.

\------------ 

“What brings you here today, doc?” The gruff, old voice of Jack Morrison was unmistakable as Angela walked into the room overlooking the gym. 

“Hey, Jack. Just making sure everything is going well.” Angela responded, a slight hint of apprehension in her voice. 

“You know we will tell you if you’re needed. Why are you really here? Wait, never mind, I don’t care.” Jack answered back. Always the guy anyone could talk to about their problems. Especially if they wanted to talk to someone who wouldn’t listen but felt too silly speaking to an actual wall.

“It’s good to see you too.” Angela responded, completely used to the old soldier’s attitude as she took a seat at a computer chair next to him, forcing him to drop his leg that was crossed over his knee to make room for the doctor.

Jack simply ‘hmphed’ as he scooted his chair away a few inches and crossed his arms over his chest. “Seriously, why are you here?”

“I’m worried about Fareeha.” Angela stated honestly, never afraid to open-up to Jack, knowing he kept his lips sealed tight over other people’s personal affairs. He was either very trustworthy, or just didn’t give a shit enough to discuss people’s issues with others. 

“Just because her mom’s not here, doesn’t mean she needs another one.” Jack stated simply, crossing his other leg back over to get more comfortable. 

“It’s not that. We had a bit of a disagreement last night and I’m worried that she is angry with me.” Angela bit her lip lightly as her cheeks turned a light hue of pink. She didn’t need to tell Jack the specifics to get him to stop questioning her about why she was watching the overwatch agents train.

“Did you tell her you were sorry?”

“I have nothing to be sorry for.” Angela threw her arms across her chest, looking a bit more defensive to the man sitting next to her.

“Sure. Always the perfect angel, aren’t we?” Jack wasn’t asking but making more of a statement.

“Hardly.” Angela replied relaxing her shoulders as the two sat in the quiet room together. “I don’t think I have anything to apologize for…” 

“If you don’t know if you need to, then you probably should”, was all Jack said as he stood up from his chair and turned to leave the room before placing his large hand over Angela’s small shoulder. “You’re an adult. Whatever the issue, handle it like one.” And with that, he let go of her shoulder and left the room, leaving the doctor alone to her thoughts.

Angela stood and look out the large glass windows that separated the room she was in, from the training room below. She scanned the large space before spotting the person she wanted to see, only to light up when she saw the strong Egyptian woman running sprints with her team, easily out pacing the rest of the guys and girls on the floor around her. 

Running had never been something Angela found herself enjoying, often finding excuses to do something other than run. It helped that she was the lead doctor in Overwatch, because no one ever expected her to partake in the rigorous training most of the other agents had to endure. Her lack of running skills, only left her more impressed by Fareeha, who glided back and forth on the court, hardly breaking a sweat. 

After several rounds, Pharah stopped along with her team to take a breather then move on to the next thing. Angela kept her eyes trained on the woman taking a drink of water on the floor below her, trying to pick up any sense of misstep that would be caused by the distracted mind of a frustrated person. She would just ask, but it didn’t seem like Pharah had any intention of talking about it. She had said herself at breakfast that they had been drunk and that shit happened, so why did she seem to be so bothered by the events that transpired that night? It would help if Angela hadn’t been too drunk to remember.

The doctor didn’t notice at first when Pharah’s eyes met her own, being distracted by her thoughts, but after a short moment she snapped out of her little trance and realized that she and Pharah were both staring at each other. Her cheeks grew pink as she moved her head down and covered her mouth as if she had to cough. The girl on the other level grew redder in the face than her exercise routine had already made it, and glanced away too, then quickly looked back one last time to see if the doctor was still there. She was not.

Angela rushed out of the training overlook room and walked quickly towards the medical office, not far down the hallway from the gym. Her heart pounded in her chest as if it had been her sprinting instead of the woman she had been watching. As soon as she reached her office, she swung the door open and slammed it shut behind her, turned the lock, and took a hasty seat at her desk. All she could do was sit there and wonder why her heart was racing as she attempted to will it to slow down. 

“Doctor Ziegler?” Athena’s voice rang over the loud speakers, startling the doctor whose heart was already beating through her chest. 

“Yes, Athena?” Mercy replied, slightly out of breath but quickly gaining some control over her body.

“Are you busy, or can you take a visitor?” Athena’s voice responded, thankfully ignorant to the current physical state of the doctor seated at her desk.

“Who are you referring to?”

“Hana Song. She just came back from Japan and requires your medical attention.” 

Angela sighed in relief that it wasn’t Pharah who needed her, being unsure if she would physically be able to handle anymore of what ever the Egyptian was making her feel. “Sure, send her in.”

The door to the lab opened at the same time Angela exited her office, feeling much more composed than she had been a minute ago.

“Anyoung, Doctor Zieg! Looking as cute as ever!” Hana’s voice sung out with the type of excitement that couldn’t be rivaled, not even by Lena on her best days. 

“Hello, Hana. How was your time in Japan?” Mercy was happy to see the 19-year-old girl’s bubbly face in her office again. 

Hana hopped up on one of the checkup tables before responding, “You would know if you watched my streams! Ha!” 

“You know as well as everyone else, that I do not have time for entertainment.” Angela smiled back at the Korean girl waiting excitedly to get the checkup over with, probably so that she could return to her room and spend the rest of the day playing video games. 

“That’s not what I heard.” Hana countered quickly then continued before Angela could question what she meant by that. “Word is, you and Fareeha had quite the time last night!” 

Angela’s face grew a deep shade of red as she worried about what Hana may have heard. Was Fareeha telling other people what had happened? Had someone seen or heard them? She may have to kill someone if that was the case. 

“Excuse me?” Angela responded, not quite sure what else to say. 

“Apparently Torb saw you two drinking at the bar at like, 3 in the morning or something. Sounded like a good time. Too bad I am too young to drink here…” Hana had obviously not heard the extent of what happened the night before, allowing Angela to relax a bit instead of becoming defensive of her actions.

“Ahh yes. It had been a long week for us both. Nothing wrong with taking a break now and again.” Angela sent out a sigh of relief, thankful that she had not been caught in her other actions. 

“I get it. Drinking age is 18 in Korea. I’ve had my share of drunk nights out. It’s always a relaxing break every once-in-a-while.” Hana smiled at Mercy, obviously not attempting to carry on the current conversation forward in any way. 

Mercy went through her normal routine, checking on Hana’s vitals, scanning her body for any internal damage, and administering the quick psych test that came after an agent came back from the field. She would never repeat the mistake she made when they had lost Amelie those many years ago. 

“You are good to go. I give you a clean bill of health. Your MEKA always does a great job of keeping you protected.” Angela smiled at Hana as if she was the girl’s mother as she took down some final notes on the Korean’s file. 

“Thanks Doc!” Hana hopped from the exam table and headed for the door before stopping abruptly and turning back towards Mercy to face her. “Everything is going to be fine, Doc.”

“Ex… Excuse me?” 

“I don’t know what’s going on, but you seemed like you needed to hear it.” 

Before Mercy could say anything else, the young girl tossed the doctor a smile, spun around, and continued out the door, letting it automatically shut behind her with the signature ‘woosh’ sound of the hydraulic door.


	5. Chapter 5

Haa… Haa… Holy… mother of… Anubis…" Tracer struggled to gain her breath as she hid around the west corner of the cellar corridor. 5 hours. She had been outrunning Widowmaker's sights for 5 hours. There was absolutely no way in hell that she was going to get off this little island alive.

"Ya give up yet?" Tracer yelled out into the dark basement, not entirely sure where Widowmaker was or why she felt the need to keep goading on her attacker. Maybe if she peacefully surrendered, the blue skinned bitch would allow her to leave alive? Stupid thought. Definitely not going to happen.

"I believe it is I who should be asking you that. While you've been running around wasting your energy, I have been conserving mine." Widowmaker's voice echoed off the damp stone walls of the dark cellar.

"Ooh, I have an idea."

"Oui?"

"No weapons. No guns, no grappling hooks, no time jumping, just fist to fist."

"No time jumping? How can I trust you to keep to your word?"

"I'll take it off."

"Your clothing?"

Tracer could clearly hear the teasing in the French woman's throat, but she was having none of it. Not after running for the last, what felt like, forever. "Yes."

"Oh really? This should be interesting." Widowmaker goaded back, clearly enjoying herself and whatever sick thoughts twisted through her mind.

"No. Not really, ya blue bitch. I'll take the harness off."

"I hear you'll disappear if you do that. Is that your plan of escape?" Tracer had no idea how Widowmaker knew that about her. Information on her condition must have been stored somewhere in the Talon databases. What she did know for sure is that the information they had was not entirely true.

"I'll be right. Just gotta stay close to it. Besides, I would rather be killed by you than disappear again. Hell is real and it exist where time doesn't." Tracer explained, hoping her bluntness would gain the other woman's trust.

"Fine. If you can overtake me, I will allow you to leave." Widowmaker stated, the cockiness in her voice remaining apparent to the young Brit.

"When I'm done with you, you won't be able to allow me anything." Tracer responded, as she set her pistols on the accent table near her and proceeded to remove her harness. She almost never removed it when she wasn't either at home or in her room at the Watchpoint, so this was undoubtedly terrifying for her. From where she was standing though, it was the only way.

"When you have fully disposed of your weapons, meet me upstairs." Widowmaker spun on her sharp heels, the noise of her steps echoing down the hall away from Tracer's hiding spot.

Once the harness was removed, Tracer took in a deep breath, feeling free from the tight straps of the harness, yet entirely nervous about it at the same time. She never fought without her accelerator. Ever.

As Tracer walked towards the stairway leading towards the main room of the chateau, further away from her accelerator, she could feel herself growing increasingly worried. Winston had promised her that she would stay anchored in time provided she was within a certain number of meters from it, but that promise didn't ease her beating heart one bit.

She continued towards the stairs and slowly walked up them, raising her hands over her head in the process, making it obvious to Widowmaker that she had nothing on her. When she reached the top of the stairs, she spotted Widow to her right, leaning against the far wall, a black widow spider crawling in her open palm. 'Of course that bitch is crazy enough to hold a spider that could paralyze a full grown Reinhardt' Tracer thought to herself.

As Tracer approached the taller woman, hands still raised in the air, Widowmaker slowly moved her hand back to the web the poisonous spider had spun and let it use it's eight thin legs to crawl from her palm and back to it's home. Widowmaker hummed as the smaller woman continued to slowly approach her. "I haven't seen you without that contraption since your accident." Widow remarked, staring holes through Tracer's chest.

What really struck Tracer was the mention of herself before the accident. What exactly did Talon have on her? Her accident didn't happen until after Widowmaker had been gone for many years, so there was no way Widow would have known what she had been like without it. Unless… 'No. Crazy thoughts. There is no way she remembers anything…' Tracer thought to herself, silently shaking her head slightly.

"Quoi? You think I don't remember the past?" There was nothing in Widowmaker's file that suggested Talon had given her mind reading abilities too. Was that even possible?

"I think that if you do remember, and you fight for Talon despite what they did, that you truly are an evil cunt." Tracer quickly came back, losing her previous worry and replacing it with anger.

"If you think that I have a say in this, you are even dumber than I thought." Widowmaker responded, pushing herself away from the wall and approaching the speedster with power behind every step, a small scowl on her face. "Now, are we going to fight, or are we going to stand here sobbing about our depressing backstories?

Tracer slowly lowered her arms, eyeing the assassin from head to toe, looking out for any weapons she could have possibly hid on herself. It would have been easier to tell had she been wearing her usual catsuit, but she kept it much more casual, sporting a tight pair of jean leggings and a baggy tee with a pair of combat heels that closely resembled her usual catsuit footwear, her hair still in a tight ponytail on her head.

When both women had decided the other was not concealing any weapons, they moved into fighting stances, Tracer's hands clenched tightly into fists in front of her face, Widowmaker's lower and open, obviously not at all afraid of the woman across from her.

Tracer shot forward, trying to catch the assassin off guard by her quick movements but being stopped short when the assassin lunged towards her and redirected the clenched fist of the smaller girl across from her. Widowmaker pushed her shoulder into the open side of the Brit, knocking her over onto the hardstone floor. Tracer rolled backwards, jumping back onto her feet with the agility Widowmaker knew she had.

"That all you've got, love?" Tracer taunted, allowing Widowmaker to approach her next, hoping to bait her into an attack since lunging forward was obviously not the way to do it, but the taller woman didn't budge.

"That depends. Are we fighting or dancing? I cannot tell." Widowmaker taunted back, holding the upper hand in the conversation and the fight thus far.

Tracer didn't respond, unable to think of something to one-up the assassin, and lunged forward again, but stopping short and stepping to the side to hit Widowmaker from her left. Unfortunately for her, the assassin was too quick and stepped back, barely dodging the smaller woman's flying fist. She swung her leg around, kicking Tracer in the back, knocking her off balance and towards the wall she had been previously leaning on.

Tracer grunted, catching herself and spinning back around to counter the assassin's attack, swinging her foot back in a reverse roundhouse kick, but was stopped short when the assassin caught her leg and pushed her to the ground, getting on top of Tracer and pushing her body roughly into the floor. The smaller girl huffed as the pressure of the assassin's knee sat on her chest.

"When will you realize that you can not beat me?" Widowmaker goaded, obviously trying to get another reaction out of the young Brit.

"When you finally kill me!" Tracer tried to yell, despite hardly being able to hold the air in her chest with the pressure of the assassin's knee digging into the spot her accelerator usually was. If the other woman really was as great as she liked to talk herself up to, then why hadn't she killed her yet?

"Oh cherie, that wouldn't be any fun now, would it?" Widowmaker held an evil smirk on her face, the same one she carried when Tracer had angrily pinned her down to the ground, desperately trying to understand how Widowmaker could have done something so evil on that night she murdered Tekartha Mondatta in Kings Row.

"You're a right sick bitch, you know that?" Tracer growled through gritted teeth at her attacker.

"You may think you know what you see, but there is so much you are not aware of. Maybe if you knew the whole story, you wouldn't perceive me as so evil as you currently do."

"I don't give a fuck what Talon did to make you like this! You're obviously still capable of knowing better!" Tracer was pissed, and rightfully so. The woman was speaking down to her as if she didn't know the difference between good and evil. As if the assassin believed that what she had done was right and excusable.

"Am I though?" Widowmaker responded, keeping her knee on the chest of the pinned woman.

"You killed Gerard! He loved you! You were his world and you killed him! Anyone with a brain knows that killing their own innocent husband for no fucking reason is wrong!" Tracer was fuming, her face bright red, veins pulsating on her forehead, as she practically screamed through short, constricted breaths.

"You speak as if you actually know what you are talking about." Widowmaker responded, a pained look in her eye's that Tracer couldn't recognize.

Tracer gasped for breath before continuing her verbal attack. "I do know! I know what you did! You're a bitch. An evil, disgusting, ruthlessly sick bitch. So twisted and manipulative that not even Gerard, the only person who could ever love you, could see!"

"No. You know nothing." Widowmaker hissed through her teeth, visible angered by the words leaving Tracer's mouth.

"See? You're angry because you know it's true! Because you know you will never be able to bring him back! Never be able to find someone who will ever love you! You blue, psychotic bitc…!"

Widowmaker had heard enough. She pressed her knee further into Tracer's chest until the smaller woman could no longer breath. Tracer brought her arms up and grabbed the assassin's leg, trying desperately to relieve some of the pressure.

As her breath began to dissipate, her struggling slowed. Unable to get adequate oxygen to her blood, her muscles grew increasingly weak. "Fuck…" Tracer wheezed as she struggled under the grip of Widowmaker. "…You."

Tracer's vision began to darken as she found herself unable to breath, and her struggling arms fell to her sides. In a single moment, everything went black. She couldn't feel anything, couldn't hear anything, existing in darkness, as her consciousness quickly slipped away.

\-----------

"Tracer? Tracer? Are you there?" Winston spoke clearly into the communication device, attempting to get a hold of the British woman. By now, he would have heard a complaint from her about how boring France was; Instead, she was silent. Entirely silent and Winston had no idea why.

"Is something the matter?" Angela spoke up as Winston spun around in his tire, facing the questioning medic who had just entered his office, obviously concerned by the loud grumbling of the space gorilla.

"I have been unable to get in contact with Tracer in the last 2 days. I think something bad may have happened. It isn't like her to stay quiet for so long." Winston scratched his forehead, obviously worried about the missing woman.

"You're positive she didn't just find a random woman at the bar and get distracting doing… ahem… things?" Angela asked, her cheeks turning slightly pink at the thoughts suddenly invading her mind.

"She won't respond to any messages on her phone or on her comms. That's unlike her, even if she is busy". Winston threw up air quotes as he said the word busy, receiving a small giggle from the doctor.

"If you are so worried, why don't you send someone to France to check on her? You could even call the hotel and ask if anyone has seen her. I'm sure she's fine!" Angela tried comforting the furry scientist, placing her hand on his large shoulder and giving him a warm, motherly smile.

"How did look when you checked on her yesterday?" Winston questioned, seemingly thinking about sender her.

"She's great. Her usual happy self. Although, she did seem a bit worn out. There has to be someone here who didn't just come back from a long mission?" Angela's hand slowly left Winton's shoulder as she stepped back giving him a quizzical look.

"Mei?"

"Still in China at the Environmental Studies Conference."

"McCree?"

"Probably passed out drunk at a bar somewhere. He hasn't been doing so well lately. Seems to be taking Genji's news hard."

"What happened? Why haven't I heard of this news?" Winston sat up from his previously slumped position on his tire chair, worry in his eyes at the possibility of something bad happening.

"Remember, you sent Genji to try and recruit his brother to join us?"

Winston nodded his head, still waiting for an explanation.

"Well, Genji isn't back yet, but he messaged McCree a couple days ago to tell him that Hanzo refused to help. You know how much McCree and Hanzo got along. I think he feels a bit betrayed." Angela scratched her head, not entirely sure what had gone on with the two men in the past.

"Ahh, I see. Hmmm…" Winston slumped back and scratched his chin, trying to think of who would be the best to send on the search. "Fareeha?"

"She came back less than a week ago after 6 months of grueling work in the Egyptian desert." Angela shook her head slowly, hoping Winston wouldn't send the Egyptian woman on this mission as she really needed to sit down and have a chat with her soon.

"It would be splendid if some of the other heroes would respond to my request to return…" Winston looked down at the ground, obviously disappointed by the current events.

Mercy cleared her throat softly before speaking up. "There is one more person we could ask."

"Who?" The silverback gorilla looked back up at the doctor, curiosity in his eyes.

"Ana. That woman never rests. I'm sure she wouldn't mind looking." Angela wasn't actually sure, but she knew that woman would be the best option at this point. And if her and Winston couldn't convince her to go, she was sure Fareeha could. The old sniper would do anything for her daughter.

"I have no idea where she is." Winston slumped further into his tire chair, looking more and more frustrated as him and Angela discussed possible options but couldn't seem to come up with an answer.

"I think I have an idea. May I?" Angela gracefully motioned towards Winston's monitors, the gorilla letting her by without question. "Athena?"

"Yes Dr. Ziegler?"

"Pull up any news stories about mysterious women helping children in the last 2 days."

"Yes ma'am". In seconds, articles started popping up on the largest monitor, with titles describing a woman saving the lives of several kids in Saudi Arabia from Talon forces in the area who were set out to kidnap children and recruit them as dispensable soldiers.

"That has to be Ana". Angela pointed at the screen, at a kneeling figure in the distance of a photo of kids who had been rescued moments earlier.

Winston perked up, standing from his slumped position as he leaned in closer to the screen. "If she is still there, I could triangulate her location and get a hold of her through her communication system. I know she still has her Overwatch earpiece, she just always keeps it silent."

The scientist typed away on his computer for a few moments before saying "Aha!" and turned to a different monitor, pulling up a map with several GPS locations and centering on one located in the Middle Eastern area. "There she is!" Winston started typing commands into his computer until his communication device started to ring.

"What do you want, Winston? You know I can't come back right now." Ana's rough voice could be heard through the gorilla's communication device, load and clear.

"It's Tracer. We fear she is in trouble and were hoping you could check on her whereabouts." Winston practically begged, the worry in his voice from earlier, coming back.

"Where is she?" The old sniper always had a soft spot in her heart for kids and the young people within Overwatch's organization.

"France. We sent her there to take a break and we haven't heard from her in a couple days."

"France? Why there?" Ana questioned, obviously surprised that anyone thought that was a good idea.

Winston grumbled a bit before responding, "I know, I know, why would we send Tracer to France. I get it. We had a cargo ship headed that way and we just needed her to get out of here and burn some energy for a few days.

Ana laughed slightly on the other line. "I can take a look. It just so happens that my work here is done for now. I'll let you know what I find when I get there." Ana's communications went silent as Winston's communicator went dark.

"I guess there isn't much to do but wait." Angela chimed in, slightly startling the gorilla who had forgotten she was there.

"I hope she's okay." Winston sat back down in his giant tire, rubbing his nose beneath his glasses before straightening them out and letting out a sigh.

Angela walked closer to him and rested her hand on his shoulder again. "I'm sure she's perfectly fine. If not, I have full faith that Ana will be able to find her."

Winston waited a moment before speaking again, "I just hope there is something to find."

\-------------

It was early the next morning when Ana landed in France, just outside of Annecy. She hitched a ride in the bed of an old farming truck that was heading in the direction she needed to go and waited quietly, laying low to keep out of sight from the old man driving the rig.

After riding along for several miles, the city she was headed began to quickly appear in the distance. Once she was close enough, she hopped off the back of the truck and quietly headed into town. She was used to keeping in the shadows, being a ghost for many years, so being spotted wasn't something she was worried about. If anything, people just assumed she was a hunched old lady. Little did they know, she carried a sniper rifle on her back under her cloak.

Ana looked down at her communication device and read off the name of the hotel and room number that Tracer was supposed to have been checked into a few days before. It was a couple miles down an old cobblestone road right outside of a historical district in Annecy. As she walked, she noticed a glimmer out of the corner of her eye, but by the time she had spun around to search for the source, there was nothing there.

She continued down the path, assuming it must have been the sun reflecting off a window or piece of metal, then approached the hotel a few moments later.

"Bonjour Madam." The bellhop quickly opened the door for Ana and ushered her into the large, ballroom-like space.

"Mercie." Ana responded, attempting her best French accent. Her Arabic accent carried through anyways, as she nodded her head at the doorman and continued in through the front entrance and towards the reception desk.

"Bonjour. Do you have a reservation?" The woman at the long oak desk looked up and began towards her computer as Ana approached her.

"No. I am looking for a friend of mine. Lena Oxton. She should have checked in 3 days ago to room 734." Ana quickly responded, not wasting any time to get to the point.

"Ah yes, Ms. Oxton. It says here she is still checked in, although I am afraid I have not seen her since the day she arrived." The receptionist looked at Ana with remorse, almost as if it was her fault Tracer hadn't come back. She was obviously just being empathetic.

"May I check her room?" Ana replied, hoping to come of as a concerned friend over a strange old woman sneaking into young British girl's hotel rooms.

"You may, as long as you don't mind one of our bellhops escorting you? We can't be held responsible for any lost or damaged items."

"Of course. I understand."

A nearby bellhop approached the older woman and grabbed the key from the reception desk before ushering her to follow his lead. They took the elevator up 7 floors before it chimed, signifying it had reached the correct floor.

As the two approached the door to Tracer's room, the space grew chillier as if a window had been left open. "After you, madam." The bellhop unlocked the door and began to open it, allowing Ana to go first.

The door slowly creaked open and the chilliness of the corridors had finally been answered. The window had been broken open, the curtains swaying with the wind entering through the cracked glass. Ana moved her eyes from the window and started to look through the room, checking the bathroom first then entering the small area where she could finally see the bed.

Ana was stopped in her tracks as she spotted the body lying on the bed, in a small pool of blood, the glowing blue chest piece next to the small bruised woman reflecting off the still wet stains on the sheets.

"Oh god's, no…" was all Ana could say as she rushed to the girl's side, searching for a pulse, but finding none, the bellhop picking up the room phone and dialing for emergency services.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ana discovers something horrible. Mercy and Pharah rush to France, hoping to bring their dear friend back. Moira wants to know where Widowmaker is hiding.

Ana Amari, arguably the best sniper in the world, had been with Overwatch since the beginning. She was a Captain, working closely with Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes during the first omnic war. She kept notches on her rifle of the lives she had taken, convincing herself for so long that she was doing the right thing by killing bad people. However, her heart always argued with her logic, and the face of her beautiful baby girl only made her question her actions more.

 

There was something about having a child that pushed this soft spot into Ana’s heart, despite her hardened soldier appearance. She was beautiful, no doubt, but her eyes spoke of pain and of violence, aggression and anger, sorrow and death. She watched many die by her side, wounds inflicted by omnic machines that had been taken over by god programs, and she watched many die by her own hands; a life for a life, she always told herself.

 

She fought so that her daughter would never have to. She never wanted her little Fareeha to experience the sensation of someone else’s blood on her hands. She never wanted her baby to feel the weight of the pain that killing brought on a warrior’s shoulders. Even if the young Egyptian girl looked up to her mother as a beacon of light and justice, she would never be allowed to lift a gun at another human so long as Ana was alive.

 

Then one day, she died. It was a mistake. She saw the face of someone she once knew, on the other side of the fight, and the thought of pulling the trigger hurt too much to bear. She held back, and in the moment of shock, in that moment of sadness, the face she had just recognized felt no remorse as it pulled the trigger, shooting Ana through the eye. Ana laid on the floor, screaming in pain, a puddle of blood soaking the side of her face that laid on the ground. She held her head in agony, unable to move from the shock of what had just happened.

 

She couldn’t die there. She couldn’t leave her Fareeha to handle the world on her own. She was only a child. Scared and alone, but frustratingly insistent on being just like her mother. She couldn’t be just like her mother though, because if she was, she too would be lying on the cold ground, bleeding as she faced the angel of death. 

 

With a jolt of adrenaline, Anna grabbed her small knife and cut off a piece of her pant leg, turning it into a tourniquet to stop the blood from flowing out of the place her eye was supposed to be. She then lifted herself from the floor and stumbled into a nearby building, searching for anyone who may be able to help, but finding none.

 

Her life spun around her, the fear of dying hitting her like a truck, not because she was afraid of death, but because she was afraid of losing Fareeha. She had to protect her. She had to make sure that her daughter would be okay. She couldn’t die and leave her world behind to possibly face the same fate. She had to survive. For Fareeha.

 

“Lena!” Ana practically screamed as she hunched over the lifeless body lying on the bed. The young woman wasn’t much older than her own daughter. How could she have let this happen to a child?

 

The blood was still wet, the body still warm, obviously not dead for long. Tears filled the soldier’s remaining eye as she leaned over Lena, pushing into the girl’s chest, hoping desperately to start her heart anew. Every soldier was trained in CPR, and Ana was especially good at it. After “dying”, she decided to dedicate her life to healing and protecting. There wasn’t anything she could have done to prevent this, no matter how much she blamed herself, but now Lena’s body was laying there, lifeless before her, and it appeared there was nothing she could do to bring her back.

 

Sirens sounded in the distance, quickly closing in on the location of the hospital. Within a few short moments, paramedics rushed into the room, carrying kits of bandages and healing salves, one paramedic holding the paddles of life. Such an old piece of technology, yet still so effective. Several of the medics began searching for the source of the bleeding, attempting anything in their power to stop it.

 

The blood was slowing, as it often did when the heart stopped beating, but the girl hadn’t been dead long, and gravity was slowly pulling the remaining red liquid from the girl’s veins. Another medic began to set up a blood station, quickly checking the young woman’s blood type and grabbing the correct bag of blood, readying it in case the woman woke up.

 

The last paramedic set up his paddles, hoping to jumpstart the dead woman’s heart, while the rest of the medics patched her up so that on the off chance her heart did begin to beat, the rest of her blood didn’t leave her. She was unexplainably pale, lifeless in her own blood, and Ana could only watch, desperately hoping that the young speedster wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

 

“Clear!”

* * *

 

Dr. Ziegler sat at her desk looking over various medical documents, before setting her pen down and groaning in frustration. She had been staring at the same sheet, reading it over and over again, entirely unable to focus on the words printed on the page. She couldn’t even begin to concentrate on her work when all she could think about was Fareeha.

 

It had been almost 4 days since the mishap after their “date” and it was quickly becoming clear to the doctor that she was being actively avoided by her friend. She apologized for her behavior, so what was the issue? She spoke with Fareeha about her actions and the Egyptian woman waved them off, acting like it was no big deal. People get weird when they drink. Some weirder than others, Angela being a perfect example, but that was no reason to for the doctor to be completely avoided for days.

 

“Athena, do you, by any chance, know the current location of Ms. Amari?” Mercy asked, trying to sound impassive to the artificial intelligence.

 

“Ana Amari is currently in France searching for Tracer. There is no news on the current situation. Can I aid you with anything else?” Athena’s slightly robotic voice responded earnestly.

 

“I know where Ana is. I’m asking about Fareeha. Her daughter. The one whose whereabouts are currently unknown to me.” Mercy didn’t mean to sound so frustrated towards Athena, but the stress she was feeling over this situation had been getting to her as the days went by.

 

“Why? Would you like me to summon her to your office?” Athena asked back, either ignorant to Angela’s short-tempered attitude, or purposefully ignoring it as the A.I. usually did when spoken down to.

 

“No!” Angela blurted, desperately attempting to stop Athena before it was too late.

 

“She’s on her way now, doctor.” Athena responded, the faintest hint of mischief in her artificial voice.

 

“Athena?” Mercy scoffed. Obviously the A.I. hadn’t actually called Fareeha to her office… Right? “A-Athena…?” the doctor asked again, this time her voice slightly shaken, unsure if the A.I. was making a joke or not. The knock that sounded on the door soon after, answered Angela’s question.

 

The door made its usual ‘woosh’ sound when the beautiful, mocha skinned soldier, walked gingerly through the opening. “Hey, Angela. You asked for me?” Fareeha stood before the doctor, holding onto her arm with her opposite hand, looking shyly towards the tiled floors. Something was definitely going on with the usually confident woman.

 

“Ah, yes!” Angela quickly conceded, trying to use the short amount of time to come up with a good excuse as to why Fareeha had been called. Athena was lucky she couldn’t feel any physical pain. “I wanted to…”

 

“Mercy! Get to the hangar bay as soon as possible! Bring your staff!” Winston hurriedly barked orders over the intercom before Mercy could come up with an adequate excuse.

 

Pharah perked up, hearing the urgency in Winston’s voice, and glanced at Angela before telling her she was joining. Angela jumped up from her desk and ran out the door of her office, Pharah following closely behind. The two women ran towards the armory that was located near the hangar and slid through the entrance, the doctor grabbing her staff, and the soldier, her hand gun.

 

They rushed out of the armory as fast as they entered, and quickly made it to the hangar, a couple hundred feet away from where they stored their gear and weapons. As the women rushed through the door, they noticed Winston shouting orders to the techs and a pilot near one of Overwatch’s fastest jets. The normally laid-back gorilla looked panicked, his face appearing red despite his almost black complexion, and his breaths quick.

 

“What’s going on?” Pharah yelled over the noise as her and Angela sprinted to the gorilla’s side.

 

“Tracer has been fatally injured! I need you in France immediately!” Winston’s voice was erratic as he explained the situation to the two women.

 

“Fatally injured? As in killed!?” Mercy was beside herself, unable to fully comprehend the words Winston had spoken.

 

“Yes! The jet is ready! Now go!” The gorilla nearly growled as he continued to bark orders at everyone around him.

 

“I’m coming with you.” Fareeha stated, making it obvious that her words were not simply a suggestion.

 

“That’s fine. Let’s go!” Mercy tossed her staff into the aircraft and jumped in, using her bodies inertia to practically carry her into the cockpit. Pharah jumped into the small seat in the very back of the tiny, 3-seater jet before hooking up and readying her headset over her ears. Angela was already hooked up and questioning the pilot next to her as the guy began to mess with the various controls.

 

The headset’s all clicked on in unison and the pilot’s voice could be barely heard over the heavy breathing of the two women who had just joined him. “Alright, you two ready for takeoff?” He quickly asked, before flipping a couple more switches and inching the jet forward towards the exit of the hangar. The large doors began to open, the hydraulics pulling the bottom half down as they pulled the top half up.

 

Both women yelled ‘ready’ into their headsets at the same time, the door opening entirely a couple seconds later. Once the runway was cleared for takeoff, the pilot initiated the jet thrusters and launched it forward, going airborne faster than the mechanics could raise their reflector guides.

 

A commercial flight from Spain to France usually took an hour and a half to complete the trip, but with the speed and technology of this particular jet, they would arrive in Annecy in less than 30 minutes. The panic in Angela’s heart hadn’t been this strong since the time she heard of her dear Amelie’s abduction many years before.

 

In what seemed like hours in the cramped cabin of the jet, they finally approached the landing zone located a few miles out of the city center of Annecy. The women hurriedly disembarked the aircraft as soon as it came to a stop and hopped into a car that had been waiting for their arrival. The driver was one of Overwatch’s few outsourced agents that were tasked with keeping an eye on target areas, hiding out in safehouses in various parts of Eastern Europe.

 

Within minutes, the vehicle screeched to a halt in front of the hotel, obviously startling bystanders who had gathered at the sight of police sirens and ambulances. Mercy and Pharah jumped out of the car before it had a chance to stop moving and rushed towards the entrance, the doctor ducking under the police tape, after Pharah leaped over it with ease. The police attempted to stop the two women, but they weren’t quick enough to stop the heroes in their state of panic.

 

The elevator sat open on the main floor, and before it had a chance to close, Pharah and Mercy slipped through the narrowing doorway. The old elevator began to ascend towards the 7th floor and Mercy prepared her staff, not taking a moment to prepare her own self for what she was about to see. Nothing she could have done would have helped alleviate the pain of the scene she was about to walk into.

 

The doors of the elevator opened, and Mercy was the first to exit and run down the small corridor towards the room where several officers stood. She could smell it. The scent of blood wafting through the air. The faint odor of death that a body gave off as soon as the heart stopped. Within seconds, she was at the door, pushing through the police barricading the way in. At first, she saw Ana, desperately doing anything she could to bring the girl back. Then, she saw her. Tracer, lying there on the bed, soaking in a puddle of her own blood that had mostly absorbed into the sheets by the time she and Pharah arrived.

 

Mercy was used to seeing a lot of death and blood, but something about seeing Tracer in this state instantly sent waves of nausea through the doctor’s chest. “Lena!” Mercy slipped through the remaining cops and leapt to Tracer’s side, holding her staff as though she was prepared to heal the girl’s lifeless corpse.

 

Ana backed away from the bed, allowing Angela enough space to do her work. She was going to attempt to resurrect Tracer. The only time Angela had ever been able to resurrect other people was when they had just passed. It took several minutes for a body to fully die, death being signified by the ceasing of the heart’s beats and the discontinued flow of oxygen to the brain. A human brain would be okay for several minutes after death, but once the oxygen in the blood was gone, there was little hope of resurrection without the chance of serious brain injury.

 

“Helden sterben nicht”, Mercy whispered to Lena before placing her hand on the girl’s chest. She held her hand over Lena’s heart for a moment as a white light began to shine and engulf Mercy’s hand, quickly crawling up her arm and over Tracer’s chest. She knew the likelihood of bringing her back wasn’t high, but she wouldn’t give up; not before trying. Lena was one of the strongest people in all of Overwatch, overcoming time itself. If anyone could pull through the impossible, the British woman could.

 

The white light began to engulf the younger girl’s body, shining so brightly that Ana was forced to look away. Mercy could feel just how dead Tracer was. She could always feel the life that she had to sacrifice from herself to bring another person back, but this time felt like no other. Angela held her breath as she focused her power into Tracer’s chest, searching for the heart that laid there motionless. She quickly grew tired, sacrificing far more of herself than she thought was possible.

 

Her strength kept draining, yet Tracer still laid there lifeless, her heart making no attempt to beat. It became so strenuous that Mercy started to feel pain in her chest. It never hurt to resurrect people, but she had also never needed to push herself so hard to bring them back. The pain quickly became unbearable, bringing tears to her eyes, but she fought them back and pushed forward. She didn’t have much power left, and if she continued much further, she too would die.

 

As her power continued draining, the pain in her chest grew and began to radiate into her limbs before climbing up her neck and reaching her head. This was it, she was almost out of life herself. If Tracer didn’t wake up soon, it would be over forever. The beautiful, boisterous, loving, excitable girl would be irreversibly dead.

Pharah stood back as she watched Mercy struggle. She could see the color draining from the doctor’s skin and her flesh beginning to sink in, the stress of this resurrection ripping her apart from the inside. “Mercy, you’re going to kill yourself!” Pharah lunged forward, grabbing the doctor’s shoulders to pull her away, but Mercy wouldn’t budge. So Pharah did the only thing she could. She wrapped her arm around the doctor’s shoulders, softly encouraging the her to stop before it was too late.

 

When Pharah looked at Mercy’s face, she could see the life draining from it, but felt helpless, unable to do anything to stop her. Mercy’s resolve was stronger than the most hardened soldier and she refused to give up, but continuing was becoming impossible and in a few moments, the doctor retracted her arm, the remaining light flowing out from her hand and into Tracer’s body. Once the light had dispersed, Angela’s legs buckled under her own weight and Pharah caught her before she could fall to the ground.

 

Ana turned her face back towards Tracer, studying the girl for any signs of life now that the light was gone, but finding none. She grabbed the young woman’s hand and wept, knowing it was over. She had been dead for too long. There was no amount of effort that would bring her back now. Pharah kneeled on the ground next to the bed, holding on to the drained doctor as if her life depended on Mercy’s survival, tears coming to the soldier’s eyes as she listened to her mother cry.

 

Pharah looked up at Tracer’s body that remained lifeless on the bed as she continued to hold tight to Angela. The doctor was breathing steadily, color returning to her once ghostly pale cheeks as her nanobots quickly restored any damage that had been done during the resurrection process.

 

“W-why’s everyone c-crying?” Tracer’s voice could be heard, barely audible above the sniffles and tears. It was weird how, when people watched others die, they could sometimes hear the person’s voice as if they were still alive. Pharah heard Tracer speak, but she knew she was only hearing what she wanted to hear. Tracer was gone, and not even Mercy could bring her back.

 

“O-oh, so we’re ignoring me now? Cool.” Tracer spoke up again, a bit louder that time, drawing attention from Ana, while Pharah still hung her head low, not bothering to look up at the dead woman’s body on the bed.

 

“Oh gods!” Anna exclaimed, ending the somber silence in the room as she leapt onto her feet and grabbed at Tracer’s hand tighter, pulling the girl’s arm up with her. “Tracer! You’re alive!”

 

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Tracer’s voice was quiet, sounding hoarse with the absence of moisture in her throat. Pharah snapped out of it after hearing the recognizable British accent a third time and whipped her head up towards the girl laying there, eye’s open, and chest slowly moving up and down. Light began to fill Fareeha’s eyes as she realized what had happened.

 

“Mercy! Mercy, wake up! You did it! It worked!” Pharah could hardly contain her excitement as she tried to shake the doctor awake. The normally controlled soldier had a smile reaching her ears as she continued in her attempt to wake Angela up. Ana, meanwhile, was at Tracer’s side with a glass of water, slowly tipping it into the Brit’s mouth, allowing her one small sip at a time to sooth her throat.

 

After a couple minutes of Pharah trying to wake the angelic doctor up, she stopped for a moment and looked back to Tracer who was peering back down at her, Pharah’s cheeks sore from smiling. “Don’t worry. She’s only sleeping. The resurrection took a lot out of her.”

 

“R-resurrection? What do you…” Tracer stopped speaking as soon as she glanced down at herself. “Holy fucking blood! Is this mine!?” Tracer spoke as loud as she could, her throat still dry but slowly returning to normal.

 

“You don’t remember what happened?” Ana asked curiously, surprised that someone could not remember something as traumatic as death.

 

“I don’t even know where the hell I am.” Tracer responded, obviously confused by everything around her.

 

“You’re in France. You were seriously injured. I found you here on this bed but have no idea what happened.” Ana explained softly, hoping to not scare the girl already struggling with what was happening around her.

 

“I… I don’t know what’s going on. I feel awful. I can’t even- even think…” Tracer struggled to find the words to describe how she was feeling, stuttering over herself more often than not.

 

“Shh my girl. Please relax. We are here with you and you have nothing to worry about anymore. Just rest.” Ana spoke softly now, urging Tracer to stop speaking and allow her body time to heal. Getting worked up would do nothing to help Tracer recover.

 

“M-Mercy…? Is she o-okay?” Tracer continued to question, her tendency to care about others more than herself, shining through her damaged exterior.

 

“She’ll be fine. I promise.” Pharah responded, as she held tightly to the selfless doctor.

* * *

 

“Aye, papi!”

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

“Pero, eres Viejo.”

 

“Caillate de una puta vez.”

 

“Hey now, that’s not very nice.” Sombra snickered and roughly slapped her hand onto Reaper’s shoulder as they walked through the thin corridors of Talon HQ. The hooded man continued walking for a moment, as if Sombra wasn’t there, ignoring the hand that hadn’t yet left his shoulder.

 

“What do you want, Sombra?” Reaper eventually spoke up, gradually becoming more irritated by the girl’s presence as they walked through the halls. Sombra finally removed her hand once he started to speak up, alleviating Reapers obvious frustration at the contact.

 

“Moira told me to get you. She says she needs to speak with tall, dark, and emo.” Sobra responded, her voice dripping with mockery at Reaper’s expense. She knew all the different ways to get under his skin, unafraid of the small chance he would lash out. Afterall, he usually kept to himself, the only anger he ever displayed, coming out through the constant growl of his voice.

 

“Tell her I’m busy.” Reaper simply stated, hoping Sombra would leave him at that, but knowing he was a fool to hope that she would back off so easily. He often wondered to himself why Talon had any interest in the Mexican hacker in the first place. She only really seemed to cause trouble for the terrorist organization, and it wasn’t like she was the only talented hacker out there. He knew her skills were unmatched, but that didn’t matter to him in the slightest. If anything, her presence only created more work for Reaper.

 

“Now, Gabe, you know she’s not going to take no for an answer.” Sombra continued, calling him by the name that most Talon agents weren’t even aware of. He wasn’t Gabriel Reyes anymore. Gabe died when Switzerland HQ was destroyed. He died along with Morrison and Amari that day. If it weren’t for Mercy’s attempt at bringing him back, and Moira’s medical knowledge, he would still be rotting away in the ruins of the once great Overwatch headquarters.

 

As far as anyone at Overwatch was concerned, Reyes was dead and Reaper had taken his place. Just as Amelie was no more, so was Gabriel. “That’s not my name.” Reaper growled, still angry that Sombra had found that out in the first place. One day he would figure out what her real name was and use that knowledge to his advantage. Until then, this is what he was stuck dealing with.

 

“Whatever you say, Gabe. Whatever you say.”

 

Before Reaper had a chance to respond, Sombra was gone. Probably using her teleporter to send her back to where she came from. He hated when she did that.

 

“Oh Gabriel…”

 

A different voice. This time, not dripping with a thick Hispanic accent, but with an accent much subtler yet just as distinguishable. The only voice in that wretched place that he hated more than Sombra’s.

 

“Moira.” Reaper growled through his teeth.

 

“I asked Sombra to get you, but she says you weren’t really feeling “dtf”. I have no idea what that means, but I’m guessing if Sombra said it, it’s stupid”, Moira answered, ignoring the aggressive way Reaper had said her name.

 

“What do you want.” Reaper stated rather than questioned, hoping that for once, Moira would leave him be in his moody state.

 

“Lacroix. Where is she?” Moira responded, matter-of-factly, obviously not in the mood to draw on this conversation the way Sombra always seemed to desire.

 

“Do I look like her guardian?” Reaper sighed, the growl ever-present in his voice.

 

“Maybe if she were dead and buried in a cemetery”, Moira taunted, yet another person poking fun at Reaper’s attire. It made him look scarier, didn’t it? The skull mask, dark hood, black robe. All he needed was a scythe instead of shotguns to truly live up to his alias.

 

“I don’t know where she is, and I do not care.” Reaper grumbled his response, wondering what he had to do to get some peace and quiet around there. Before he could step any further, Moira materialized in front of him, blocking him from moving forward. He could use his abilities to float through her but decided against it. It would only put off the inevitable conversation she insisted on having with him.

 

“Do not lie to me, Gabriel.” Moira spoke down to him, a spec of anger flickering in her eyes.

 

“I have no idea. Why don’t you ask her buddy, Sombra? The one you sent for me?” Reaper responded, his eye’s matched in anger.

 

“She claims she does not know.”

 

“And you believed her?” Reaper let out a mocking laugh and shook his head at the scientist who was still standing in his way. “For a genius, you’re not very smart.”

 

“Obviously she knows, but I figured I might have an easier time getting information out of you.” Moira snickered.

 

“Well, unlike Sombra, I do not have an answer to your question. Did you check the security videos? Or travel logs?”

 

“Of course. She was seen hopping onto a cargo jet that had 9 different stops before returning without her.” Moira pinched her nose with her fingers, attempting to alleviate the headache her irritation was beginning to form.

 

“Well then, I think you have your answer.” Reaper grumbled, pushing past Moira to continue down the hall.

 

“Will you go find her?” Moira proposed as the hooded man walked away from her.

 

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”

* * *

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela finally awakens to a living Tracer. Fareeha and Ana make amends over the past. Widowmaker struggles to cope with what she had done.

Chapter 7

“…laaa…”

“…ake up…”

“…gela, wake up…”

“…ey Angela, wake up.”

“Angela, you need to wake up.”

 

“Huh?” Angela gasped as she quickly sat up, the reality of what had happened hitting her like a brick wall. Fareeha was still holding the doctor and smiling softly at the disheveled woman in her arms.

 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re fine.” Fareeha cooed, trying to keep the doctor from becoming anymore startled.

 

“Tracer? I’m so sorry…” Angela began to cry, remembering what had happened and why she had passed out. She was unable to resurrect Tracer. The poster child of Overwatch was gone, and there was nothing the brilliant doctor could do to change that.

 

“It’s okay love, I’ll forgive you.”

 

Angela snapped her eyes up to the direction of the all too familiar British accent. Tracer leaned against the headboard, covered in a blanket, smiling brightly at the woman who had finally woken up. She couldn’t believe what she saw. She could feel when people she resurrected came back to life, but she wasn’t able to get anything out of Tracer before she passed out. How was the younger woman alive?

 

“Hey, love.” Lena’s smile grew, her eyes sparkling as she continued to look at the doctor.

 

“Lena!” Mercy pushed her way out of Fareeha’s arms and jumped up to the bed, the blood rushing quickly to her head, causing her to feel dizzy. It was too late though. This was too good to be true. Before she had the chance to even notice her dizziness, she wrapped her arms around Tracer’s shoulders, grasping to her with a tight hug.

 

“Ouch…” Lena said, wincing at the contact against her cuts.

 

Angela quickly let go and leaned back a bit, her face growing pink by her actions. She was so excited to see Lena was alive, that she had completely forgotten how damaged the Brit was. “Mein gott, I am such an idiot! I’m sorry!?” Angela apologized profusely.

 

“I guess I can forgive you.” Lena gave the doctor a quick wink and giggled, despite the pain she was feeling.

 

Fareeha had stood up during the commotion and finally approached Tracer’s bed, standing next to Angela. “We needed to go but didn’t want to move her until you were awake.” Fareeha explained, giving Angela a quick glance before looking back at Tracer.

 

“Well, give me a moment to look over the extent of the damage. Where’s your mother?” Angela added, realizing the older woman was nowhere to be seen.

 

“She already left. Said she still had things to do. Of course, what she meant to say was ‘sorry child, but I still don’t have the balls to apologize about why I disappeared and left you to believe your mother was dead.” Fareeha responded, her face carrying a deadpan expression.

 

Angela looked over to the younger Egyptian woman and placed her hand on her shoulder. “Es tut mir leid. I know how frustrating that can be. Especially when someone refuses to talk about something that is important to you.” 

 

Fareeha glanced over to the doctor, a knowing look in her eyes, aware that Angela was subtly referring to their situation. “Right…” She responded before breaking eye contact and looking back down at Tracer. “I should get out of here while you check on Tracer. I’ll give Winston a call and tell him to send a ride.” 

 

“Thank you, Fareeha.” Angela said as the Egyptian walked out of the hotel room.  

 

* * *

 

 

Fareeha stepped outside after a few minutes and sat on a bench in front of the old hotel. She watched as cars rolled by on the cobblestone streets before grabbing her phone to call Winston. She typed in his number and brought the phone to her ear, but quickly hung up when she realized who was standing not far down the street from her. “Mom?” Fareeha said to herself quietly, noticing the old sniper hadn’t yet left. Ana turned around, noticed Fareeha sitting at the bench, and began to walk towards her daughter, shame written on her face. 

 

“What are you still doing here?” Fareeha asked, looking up at her mom as she remained on the bench.  

 

The older woman took a seat next to her daughter and inhaled deeply, obviously struggling to say something that was on her mind. “I, um… I’m sorry.” Ana practically choked out, her eyes remaining locked to the ground. It was such an uncharacteristic gesture for the usually over-confident sniper that Fareeha couldn’t help but notice the strange behavior her mom was exhibiting.  

 

“For what, mom?” “For leaving you and not telling you that I was still alive. I just, wasn’t ready.” Ana tried to explain, small tears forming in her only eye.

 

“You weren’t ready to tell your daughter you weren’t dead? Makes sense.” Fareeha responded, sarcasm dripping off her tongue, a pinch of anger radiating in her chest. Was this really how Ana was going to start? Making an excuse for leaving her own daughter to believe her mom had been dead for so many years?

 

“No, I wasn’t ready to face what my life had become.” 

 

“What does that even mean?” Fareeha’s anger only grew as she began to imagine what excuse her mother would come up with next. 

 

Ana noticed the growing hostility and began to answer in Arabic, attempting to keep their conversation private from passerby’s, _“I told you all throughout your childhood that I didn’t want this kind of life for you, but that’s not because I was scared of losing you. At least, that wasn’t the only reason.”_

 

A quiet sigh escaped Fareeha’s mouth as she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Go on…” she almost whispered, noticing the sudden hesitation in Ana’s voice. It was now or never. If Ana ever wanted to fully redeem herself in her daughter’s eyes, she needed to explain why she had truly decided to disappear, even when it meant leaving her daughter on her own during the most crucial parts of her development. 

 

Ana took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing, _“It’s because I had experienced being a soldier for most of my life and an immense amount of pain followed me. I killed people, Fareeha. Their deaths haunted me every day. It wasn’t until the day I saw Amelie’s face on the other side, that I realized just how much pain I felt. Then, she shot me in the eye, and I took it as an opportunity to disappear; I couldn’t keep killing.”_ Fareeha glanced over at her mom and for once in her life felt pity for the woman. She was finally starting to understand why Ana had run away. She was broken; too weak to continue fighting and not strong enough to face her reality, so she hid and became a different person to run from her own past.

 

“ _Oumi… I understand, but you still ran from me. You still left me on my own without a mother.”_ Fareeha responded, continuing their conversation in Arabic.  

 

 _“I know. And I will forever be sorry for that.”_ Ana sighed, her shoulders dropping even further in defeat. 

 

Fareeha cautiously moved her hand towards her mother and placed her hand on the old soldiers back.  _“I forgave you a long time ago. I just needed to hear you finally admit why you left…”_ Fareeha continued, the pain of abandonment radiating in her chest, but the love for her mother too strong to ignore.  

 

 _“I am happy that you can forgive me, for I am afraid I will never be able to forgive myself.”_ Ana looked at her daughter, her eye glazed over by gentle tears that were coming dangerously close to falling down her cheeks.  

 

Fareeha used her other hand to reach forward and wipe away the tear that had finally broken away from the rest. “ _I’m sorry, oumi. I’m sorry for becoming a soldier even though you tried so hard to keep me from this life, but I couldn’t just stand to the side as my friends and family were taken from me…”_

 

 _“Ibnaty, don’t apologize.”_ Ana interrupted,” _You have made me so proud. You’ve always fought for what you believed in, and that is more than I can say for myself. It is my fault that I wasn’t there to support you.”_

 

Fareeha smiled, finally feeling a sense of peace that she had never experienced before towards her mother. _“Thank you. Ana bahebak.”_  

 

 _“Habibti… I love you more than you know”,_ Ana responded, turning around, and hugging her daughter tight for the first time since she had disappeared. _“I am sorry I cannot return to Gibraltar with you, but there is still much that needs to be done; Many lives that need to be saved.”_ The younger woman held tight to the embrace for another moment before releasing Ana, taking in the foreign scent of her mother that she had missed all these years. 

 

 _"I understand. You must save the innocent as I too must. Just stay safe. I’m not ready to lose you a second time.”_ Fareeha spoke softly, looking deeply into her mother’s eyes, the tears slowly beginning to dry up as they concluded the conversation. 

 

 _“I will return soon. In the meantime, make sure you take good care of Dr.Ziegler. She’s been through more than even I have, and I can see that she holds tightly to your friendship.”_ Ana smiled, her eyes clear as she straightened her posture and prepared to stand. Fareeha’s cheeks grew red as she wondered how much the old sniper knew. Ana simply smiled back, a knowing look in her eyes, and grabbed her daughter’s hand to squeeze it before standing up.

 

“Thank you, mom.” Fareeha spoke up, speaking in English once again, before Ana walked away. 

 

“Anything for you, my Fareeha”

 

* * *

 

 

“Oi, shit! That hurt!” Lena flinched as Angela attempted to stand her up and move her to the second bed in the room. There was too much blood that had soaked into the other bed, and Angela knew Tracer would get stuck to the red sheets before long, making it much more difficult to clean her wounds. Pealing the sheet away after the blood had dried could cause her cuts to open back up.

 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Angela spoke softly as she held Lena’s arm around her shoulders and carried her gently to the other bed. Once Lena was made comfortable on the clean sheets, Angela began examining her body for any large cuts that needed immediate attention. The EMS had patched her up, but not well enough for her to travel back home, so Angela went to work, using her Caduceus and nanites to heal Tracer. Without the advanced medical equipment in her lab she wouldn’t be able to patch Tracer up as well as she normally could, but this would have to do for now.

 

Angela continued to heal the speedster’s wounds until a light knock was heard on the door. Fareeha stepped in as soon as she heard the okay and smiled at the Brit who was looking much better by the minute. “Our ride’s here. Is she ready to go yet?” she asked the doctor who was still too focused on Tracer’s injuries to look up.

 

“Almost done. Did you speak with the receptionist about compensation for the room damage?” Angela asked, not wanting to leave the mess without at least apologizing.

 

“I did. He said not to worry about it. Apparently, he was an Overwatch soldier during the first Omnic war.”

 

“Ahh yes. I thought he looked familiar.” Angela thought out loud as she finished healing a particularly large cut on Tracer’s abdomen. “Leave it up to Winston to know where old agents are. Alright, this should be good for now.” Angela said as she stood up straight and leaned her staff against the wall. “Just let me wash her up and we can be on our way.”

 

“I’ll let the driver know that you’re almost ready. Do you need any help getting Lena to the car? Fareeha asked before heading out of the room.

 

“No, we should be fine. Thank you.” Angela smiled at Fareeha then turned back to Tracer to help her out of the bed.

 

“Did something happen when I was gone?” Lena asked Angela quizzically, as the doctor began wiping the blood off Lena’s arm with a damp cloth.

 

“I’m not sure what you mean by that.” Angela responded, confused by the vague question leaving Lena’s mouth.

 

“I see how she looks at you. Emily used to look at me like that.”

 

“How who looks at me?” Angela continued to focus on cleaning around Lena’s wounds without agitating the freshly stitched flesh, while humoring the girl’s vague remarks.

 

“You’re a genius. You can figure out who I am referring too.” Lena quipped, winking at Angela when the doctor glanced up at her face for a moment before getting back to work.

 

“I’m afraid I am only a genius in medicine and medical technology. Whatever fantasy you are referring to goes beyond my expertise.” Angela smirked back, knowing full well who Lena was referring too, but not giving her the satisfaction of being right. She stepped away to the bathroom to rinse the blood from the wash cloth then returned shortly after, moving her attention to Lena’s abdomen.

 

“Whatever. You know I’m talking about Fareeha. Lying is wrong, Dr. Ziegler.” Tracer replied with giggle, a gasp quickly replacing the laughter as Angela purposefully poked at a tender spot by her rib. “Oi! You did that on purpose!”

 

“I did no such thing, Ms.Oxton”, Angela held back a giggle before continuing, “Speaking of Emily, how is she doing? I haven’t heard you talk about her in a while.”

 

Tracer looked away for a moment in an effort to hide the sadness in her eyes, “You don’t know? I broke up with her a few months ago. Felt bad about being gone all the time and didn’t want her to keep worrying about me whenever I was away on mission.”

 

Angela took a moment to stop cleaning Lena’s wounds and looked up, placing her free hand on the younger girl’s shoulder as she spoke, “I’m sorry to hear that. I understand how difficult that can be.”

 

“Y-you do? But in all the years I’ve known you, you haven’t said a word about, well, being in or breaking a relationship.” Lena’s eyes grew wider as she spoke, giving off the faint appearance of puppy eyes.

 

“Well, I haven’t been in the same situation as you, but I do know how it feels to leave loved ones and family behind.” Angela gave Lena’s shoulder a light squeeze, understanding reflecting in her eyes.

 

It had been many years now, but Angela was forced to say goodbye to a lot of people when she started to work for Overwatch. She may not have said goodbye to a lover, but she knew it hurt all the same. Some of the people she left were never seen again, as her obligations to Overwatch took her away from protecting her friends, many of them losing their lives during the war. It always broke Angela’s heart whenever she heard of another friend she had lost to the war, but those losses only pushed her to become a better doctor. The better she was, the less people would have to die at the hands of this broken world.

 

“Do you think losing a lover is the same as losing a friend?” Lena asked, sincerity in her voice.

 

“In my experience, yes.”

 

“How would you feel if Jesse died?”

Angela’s hands stopped what they were doing and she quickly looked at Lena, giving the younger girl her full attention, one of her eyebrows raising quizzically. “He’s my friend and my ally, I would be devastated, of course. Why are you asking such a strange question?”

 

“Well, how would you feel if Fareeha died?”

 

In a single moment, Angela couldn’t speak, unable to come up with an answer to Lena’s question, she simply stood there, looking at the Brit with fear and sorrow deeply imbedded in her eyes. Even the mere thought of losing Fareeha broke the doctors heart, far more than the thought of losing Jesse. Why? Angela was a doctor. She wasn’t allowed to play favorites. Obviously, she would be devastated if any of her friends died, but the thought of that friend being Fareeha rendered her speechless.

 

“Exactly”, was Tracer’s only response.

 

* * *

 

 

Pink tinted water flowed steadily down the stone foundation of the chateau, following a stream created by a nearby hose. Blood soaked between the cracks of the old stone, refusing to wash away completely, no matter how much water ran over them. “Merde…” Widowmaker swore under her breath as she sprayed water over the surface of the flooring. She had been at it for hours but still couldn’t get the crimson pools out of her head. She didn’t mean to go so far. She had no intention of killing the obnoxious British girl. She only wanted to scare her. Instill the fear of God in her.

 

She slipped. She lost control. Something in her snapped when she heard the slanderous words coming out of the Brit’s mouth. _“You’re angry because you know it’s true! Because you know you will never be able to bring him back! Never be able to find someone who will ever love you!”_

_“Never be able to find someone who will ever love you!”_

The words stung as they played on repeat in the assassin’s head. She had been a ruthless murderer for years, taking the lives of the innocent like she was taking candy from a baby, feeling no remorse in the process. She killed whoever she was told to kill, without question, the only emotion being the deep satisfaction of the kill. But this kill wasn’t satisfying. This kill did not make her feel alive in the way she desired. This kill caused her a pain that she didn’t know she could feel.

 

She only wanted Moira to stop the treatments so that she could feel like her own person. She didn’t know that these emotions she hadn’t felt in years would hurt so bad. She only wanted to feel alive, but the pain of being alive was much worse than she would have ever expected, and in the moment of pain, she killed the only person who ever made her feel alive in a good way without needing to kill. She had finally killed Tracer just like Talon wanted.

 

The memories continued to play in Widowmaker’s head as she got down on her knees and began to meticulously scrub the surface of the stones. Suffocating the girl wasn’t enough to quell the anger and the emotion that Widowmaker felt after hearing Tracer’s words, so in a moment of frenzy, she took her knife and stabbed the Brit in the chest as hard as she could. Stopping felt impossible as she ripped the short dagger from the girl’s chest and pushed her hand back down. She continued to thrust her hand down onto the smaller woman’s body while holding the blade, blood spilling in every direction, some splashing onto Widowmaker’s cold face.

 

The handle slipped out of her hand at one point, but the inertia of her arm continued, the blade slicing her own palm as it slid down towards the Brit’s body. Her royal blue blood quickly turned red as it became oxygenated, mixing in with the blood of the girl crumpled lifelessly on the grey stones. It took feeling physical pain to snap Widowmaker out of her fit of disillusion and anger, but by then it was too late. She had killed the young British girl in cold blood, and the pain in her heart was nothing like she had ever felt before.

 

She had no idea what to do, and in a final moment of confusion and pain, she grabbed the lifeless corpse and threw it into the boat before jumping in herself. She rowed to shore as quickly as she could manage then grabbed Tracer, carrying her limp body over her shoulder, and grappled her way over the rooftops of Annecy, keeping hidden in the dim lighting of dusk. She found the room key in Tracer’s pocket, the hotel name and room number conveniently printed on the back of the card and brought her back to her room, breaking through the window from the outside and laying the Brits body on the bed nearest the window. In a few short seconds, she was gone.

 

Tracer’s Overwatch friends were bound to go looking for her eventually. Maybe if they were quick enough, they would be able to reverse the damage Widowmaker had inflicted. Maybe, just maybe, she would see the only person who made her feel alive, again.

 

* * *

 

 

“Preparing for takeoff.” The pilot’s voice rang through the headsets of each person in the old Overwatch shuttle. Fareeha was buckled up in the co-pilot’s seat while Angela sat in the back, Tracer laying down with her head placed comfortably in the doctor’s lap. It had taken so much energy to get from the hotel to the shuttle, even with Angela taking on most of the British girl’s weight. She felt weaker than she had ever felt before, completely unable to hold her own head up, so she laid on the bench-like seats in the back while the doctor held tightly to her.

 

Tracer dozed off before the plane could take off, the events of the day finally casting her into a deep slumber as she laid safely in Angela’s arms. The pilot confirmed takeoff and sent the carrier down the short strip of the countryside airport. After accelerating for a few yards, the nose of the plane tipped up towards the sky, bringing the wheels off the concrete, and leaving the ground below.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena is returned to base and Angela takes care of her. Sombra goes on a little hunt for Widowmaker and warns her of Moira’s growing suspicion. Angela is in some serious denial.

“How is she doing, Doctor?” Winston asked as he cradled the small, sleeping woman that Fareeha had just handed him in his large, furry arms, waiting as Angela followed the Egyptian out of the shuttle.

 

“She’s going to be okay. I’ll need to spend more time healing her wounds, check her for any internal injuries, and run a brain scan to search for any possible brain damage that may have been caused by her death, but she is fine to sleep for now.” Angela responded, following Winston out of the hangar and towards her office.

 

“I knew you could bring her back, Doctor”, Winston paused a moment to look down at the sleeping girl in his arms. “I can’t imagine a world without Lena- Being able to finish my work uninterrupted in my quiet lab? It is truly unimaginable…” Winston let out a small chuckle from his nostrils and Angela followed along, thankful for the light-hearted remark amidst the stress of the day.

 

“Quiet? I do not know the meaning of the word.” Angela joked before continuing down the hallway. “She will need to be monitored 24/7 and I have to begin a blood transfusion as soon as possible. If you could please lay her down in one of the individual rooms in my lab, that would be much appreciated.” Angela smiled at the gorilla as she stopped at the armory door to return her battle staff to its secured locker.

 

A soft rumble of agreeance escaped Winston’s throat and continued down the hall towards the lab. Once inside, he took Lena to one of the rooms that was built off the lab area and provided privacy for seriously injured Overwatch agents, containing a single bed, wall-mounted TV, a single seater sofa, some health monitors, and a counter that housed various medical supplies, not unlike an average hospital room.

 

Winston laid the younger woman on the bed and stood there for a moment, studying the soft expression of ease on Lena’s bruised face. It had been many years since the slipstream incident, but the large gorilla could still remember the pain of losing Lena as though it had happened yesterday. The thought of losing her again was too much to bear, and he swore on his life once he had found her that he would never lose her again.

 

Soft footsteps approached the doorway and Angela soon followed, stepping into the room interrupting Winston’s thoughts. “I’ve got it from here. Thank you, Winston.” Angela spoke quietly, a small smile on her face as she placed a hand on the gorilla’s shoulder.

 

“Of course, Doctor Ziegler. Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

“I should be fine for now. I’ll let you know if something comes up. Thank you again.”

 

Winston turned to face Angela and gave her a grin, showing off his sharp primate teeth, before pushing his glasses back up his nose, nodding his head, and shuffling past her out of the room, the unmistakable sound of his large footsteps following closely.

 

“Athena, can you do me a favor and make sure Tracer is constantly monitored for the next 24 hours?” Angela asked the A.I. as she started poking tracer with needles and attaching electrodes to various parts of the Brit’s body.

 

“Yes, Dr. Ziegler. Will you be monitoring her as well?” The A.I.’s voice rang over the lab intercom.

 

“I will, but I’ll need your help, especially whenever I step out. Lena needs to be monitored until I can confirm that she is one-hundred percent stabilized. I’m not taking any chances here.”

 

“Of course, Dr. Zielger. I will alert you of anything suspicious.”

 

“Thank you, Athena.”

 

Angela returned to her desk after setting Lena up in her room and sat in her chair, taking note of the sweet silence that graced the room. The last 24 hours had been so hectic, and she could feel the exhaustion taking over her body after giving so much of her energy to Lena earlier that day. She leaned back into the soft cushions of her office chair and took a deep breath as her eye lids grew heavier by the second. In a minute, she was sound asleep, softly snoring away, while Athena kept a digital eye on Lena.

 

* * *

 

 

Activity around the base was hectic as usual, as black clad and armored individuals stomped through the narrow corridors of the hideout. Everyone was too busy with their own tasks to notice anyone else around them, and Sombra knew to take full advantage of that. The hacker skulked through the dimly lit halls, looking out for anything interesting or unusual going on around her. Agents pushed past, not noticing the small girl observing their actions.

 

As she continued through the halls, she slowed down near the double doors leading into the science lab and peaked in through the small square windows near the top of the door. Moira and Gabe were talking, or rather, Moira was talking while Gabe stood there appearing entirely uninterested in what the Irish woman was saying. She noticed him shaking his head slowly, causing the scientist to stop speaking, a look of disappointment spreading over her face. Her eyebrows grew furrowed as Gabe began to speak then turn around hastily and head towards the lab doors that lead to the hallway. Sombra quickly stood to the side before Gabriel opened the door.

 

“Hola senior. The crazy lady trying to boss you around again?” Sombra spoke, grabbing the attention of the man cloaked in black who had just exited the lab.

 

“Sombra…” Reyes growled as he turned to face the hacker who had obviously been attempting to eavesdrop on his conversation with Moira. God, he couldn’t stand Sombra and her nosiness. “What do you want?”

 

“Is she still trying to convince you to find our little spider?” Sombra asked, leaning against the wall next to the lab door.

 

“She seems to think she’s my boss.” Reaper huffed before turning away from Sombra and stepping down the hallway, obviously not interested in carrying the conversation any further.

 

Sombra quickly followed, not quite as finished as her grumpy counterpart was. “I could find her. Afterall, I know exactly where she is.” Sombra smirked, catching up to Reaper as he continued down the hall.

“Of course, you do.” Reaper grunted, his steps growing quicker as he stomped through the corridors.

 

“I’m only the world’s greatest hacker. It’s no big deal, really.” Sombra shrugged, following along with Reaper’s pace. The perpetually grumpy man ignored her, hoping to deter her from following him any further. Of course, no such luck was to be had.

 

“Gabe?”

 

“What?” Reaper growled back, scowling at the constant use of his real name by the hacker.

 

“Nothing. Just checking to see if you were listening.” Sombra snickered, nudging Reaper with her arm to his dismay.

 

“Do what you want. It’s not like you weren’t going to anyway.” Reaper snarled back, trying to gain some distance between the hacker and himself.

 

“You know me so well”, Sombra goaded before disappearing into thin air as she usually did. If she was going to find Widowmaker, she needed to hitch a ride on a shuttle. She could easily hack into one of Talon’s many planes and change their GPS destination to wherever she wanted to go, she just needed to find one with a pilot that wouldn’t question the change in direction. That wouldn’t be difficult considering most Talon employees were only there for the money.

 

After a few minutes of searching, Sombra found the perfect ride and snuck on before hacking into the system changing the destination to Annecy, France. There was no reason Talon would need to conduct business in that small town, but the bored looking pilot didn’t seem to care as he started up the engines and thrusted forward down the hidden runway. In a few short moments, the plane was in the air and Somba sat back, enjoying the view out of the small windows.

 

The plane arrived in its set location after a few hours and Sombra jumped out as soon as it landed. She had no interest in sitting around to talk to the pilot or explain why he was there. She simply told him to wait around and that she would be back soon. He had landed the small plane not far from the city center, leaving Sombra a short trip to the chateau.

 

Sombra snuck by shops and cafes, hoping not to draw too much attention from the locals, despite her attention-grabbing appearance. As she moved through the cobblestone streets, she noticed a strange collection of cars with flashing lights sitting in front of an old hotel. On most days, the hacker would find the situation interesting enough to explore, but this was not one of those days.

 

A couple blocks down the road from the hotel she finally spotted what she was looking for. The large chateau sat undisturbed in the middle of the small lake, with nothing but rowboats sitting at the shore. “You’ve got to be kidding…” Sombra grumbled to herself as she noticed the lack of electric boats docked on the sand. She wasn’t much for physical labor, spending most of her free time sitting behind a computer screen.

 

There was nothing she could do to avoid rowing out to the small island, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to swim there, so she snagged a boat and pushed it into the lake before jumping in after it and rowing her way towards the old stone fortress. Once there, she tied the boat to a post and jumped out, thankful for the solid ground beneath her feet.

 

“Oh, spider girl!” Sombra called out in a sing-song voice as she strolled up to what appeared to be the main entrance. She knew all about the chateau, but this was the first time she had ever physically been there, never having a need to spy on the painfully boring assassin before. The place looked abandoned, but freshly emptied wine glasses told her she was not alone. “Yo, Widowmaker! Donde Estas?” Sombra yelled out again, still receiving no response.

 

The hacker continued through the large building, finding no sign of Widowmaker. Some of the lights were on, and an open laptop sat on her desk, but the assassin was nowhere to be seen on the main floor. Sombra walked towards the steps leading to the cellar, hoping to find the blue woman downstairs, maybe picking out a glass of wine that the two could enjoy together. What she found instead, surprised her.

 

The normally regal and composed assassin was sitting on the dusty floor, slouched against the wall with a half-emptied bottle of wine resting in her slightly closed hand. A sight Sombra never imagine she would see laid on display before her. Widowmaker appeared to have passed out, drunk on wine, her hair disheveled, dried blood leaving a path from her lip to her chin, her shirt stained in red.

 

“Now this, I need to get a picture of.” Sombra snickered to herself as she pulled out her holophone and pointed it at the passed-out assassin, snapping a picture, then returning the phone to her pocket. “Heh, this will definitely have a use in the future.” Sombra slowly approached Widowmaker, before kneeling next to her and taking the wine bottle from her limp hand. She then sat next to the assassin, sniffed the dark red liquid, then downed the rest of the bottle, not giving it enough time to enjoy the flavor of the 200-year old pinot noir.

 

“So”, Sombra spoke up as if the sleeping woman was listening. “Rough night, huh? It’s okay, you know. We all have those.” Sombra continued, setting the empty bottle onto the stone floor next to her. She then peered towards Widowmaker, examining the blue face, resting almost peacefully in a deep, alcohol induced slumber. “Got in a bit of a bar fight, huh?” Sombra commented, making a note of the disheveled and damaged exterior of the woman slouched next to her.

Sombra let out a huff of air before hoisting herself back up, using the wall to support her weight. She then reached down and grabbed the assassin, using her unlikely strength to lift the surprisingly light woman up. It was far from easy, but the hacker managed to carry Widowmaker up the stairs, stopping a couple times along the way to catch her breath. Once she reached the top of the steps, she turned down the hall, carrying the limp body towards what she assumed to be the bedroom.

 

The door of the room was slightly ajar, making it easy for Sombra to nudge open with her shoulder without letting go of the assassin. In one final struggle, she managed to hoist Widowmaker on the bed before stepping back to catch her breath. Sombra peered down at the sleeping woman, a small tinge of pity appearing in her eyes, so small that even the most observant of people would have a difficult time noticing, then placed her hand over the older woman’s forehead, feeling for an abnormal body temperature. Abnormal for her, anyway.

 

Being no medical expert, especially when it came to someone whose body temperature was naturally much colder than the average persons, Sombra lifted her hand and shrugged, completely unsure if anything was different. She took one last glance at Widowmaker before turning on her heel and leaving the room, walking back down the hallway towards the large kitchen area she had passed earlier. Thankfully, the kitchen was mostly empty, making it easy for Sombra to find a glass and fill it with water, before returning to Widowmaker’s room.

 

Sombra set the glass of water on the bedside table then turned back around, exiting the room once again, this time in search of a towel and a bucket she could use to clean the blood from Widowmaker’s body. A few minutes of searching led the hacker to the bathroom where she was able to find a towel. She ran water over the soft fabric, soaking it enough to use without the need for a bucket. The bathroom was mostly empty, with nothing but an old toilet, sink, and a shower head; a bucket would have been easy to find in such an empty room if there was one.

 

With the damp towel in hand, Sombra returned to the room where Widowmaker slept. It was strange walking into the room and seeing something so uncharacteristic for the usually poised assassin. Sombra was sure that if Widowmaker could see the hacker taking care of her in this state, that she would not hesitate to put a hole through Sombra’s head out of sheer embarrassment. The sniper had too much pride to be taken care of like this.

 

The younger woman wasn’t much for healing the wounds of others, but she considered Widowmaker a friend at this point, even if the sniper didn’t feel the same way. Friends were difficult to come by when working for a terrorist organization as a top-secret hacker, so Sombra would take what she could get, even if what she could get was a cold, unattached, blue woman, with a weird, kink-like obsession for killing people.

 

Sombra slowly approached the assassin before getting to work, gently wiping away the dried blood on Widowmaker’s lips and chin. The most confusing part of this situation, was why she was in this battered state in the first place. The older woman could annihilate her enemies and, more often-than-not, get away without a single scratch. As Sombra continued cleaning away the damage from Widowmaker’s body, she couldn’t help but wonder who could have done this much damage to the master sniper.

 

In most cases, Widowmaker didn’t even allow people to come so close to her as to damage her blue skin. Her cuts and bruises resembled more of a barfight than a mission to take out one of Talon’s targets, and the assassin’s drunken state only further confirmed that assumption in Sombra’s mind. Before Sombra could go any further, she peeled off the blood-stained shirt from Widowmaker’s skin and gently removed her tattered bottoms. Sombra only hoped that the assassin wouldn’t wake up any time soon for the sake of her own health and safety.

 

The assassin was on this new level of beautiful despite the blue skin and dead eyes. None could rival the beauty and grace she carried with her everywhere she went. Her eyes were cold, her stare capable of firing daggers through anyone’s soul, but there was a mysterious beauty in them at the same time. Her jawline was sharp, nose small and pointed, and her hair long and dark, softer than silk. Talon had done a lot to alter the assassin’s appearance, but it was easy to see that even before the modifications, Widowmaker had been a stunner.

 

Once Sombra had finished cleaning Widowmaker’s wounds, she laid a blanket over her mostly naked body then left the bedroom, bringing the dirty towel with her and discarding it in what appeared to be an old clothing washer machine, before stepping out to one of the many balconies and leaning against the old railing. She looked over the lake to the small town of French natives, observing the old light posts that told a story of an older, more peaceful time, before the rise of God programs that led to the first omnic war.

 

The hacker had intended on finding and speaking with Widowmaker about the situation with Moira back at base but discovering the assassin in this state prevented her from moving any further on her self-appointed mission. Sombra would wait for her friend to wake up, enjoying the peacefulness of the sunset in the meantime, and hopefully avoid the full wrath of Widowmaker when she inevitably woke up and realized what had happened after passing out drunk on 200-year old wine.

 

* * *

 

 

A soft ringing sound traveled through the large lab of the Gibraltar Watchpoint. It started as a soft noise, but quickly grew to a louder, more frantic tone, effectively waking Angela up from her nap with a startle. “Shit”, she whispered to herself as she jumped up from her office chair and jogged to the room Lena was resting in, quickly realizing the noise she was hearing was coming from the help button near the patient’s bed.

 

Upon entering the room, Angela was greeted by a moan from the younger woman sitting up in the bed, her finger still hovering over the help button. “Damn it, Angie, I’ve been trying to get your attention for like an hour!” Lena overexaggerated, heaving another moan, obviously irritated by the Doctor’s lack of presence. “I need to use the loo. Like, now.” Lena stated, the urgency in her voice snapping Angela out of her post sleep irritation that usually came when she was awoken from a comfortable sleep.

 

“Oh, right! Sorry!” Angela ran to Lena’s side and gently lifted the smaller girl from the hospital bed. Lena threw her arm around the doctor’s shoulders to help support her weakened stature as the doctor hoisted her up and out of the small room. The bathroom door was next to the entrance of the room Lena was in, making the trip an easy one.

 

“I’ve got it from here.” Tracer declared as Angela brought her into the bathroom.

 

“You’re sure you don’t need any help?” Angela asked, still very concerned by Lena’s current state of health. She had helped several agents in this position before. It was always an uncomfortable experience for them, but for Angela, it was part of the job of being a doctor, so she thought nothing of it.

 

“Positive. The day I can’t pee on my own is the day I want you to put me down. Got it?” Lena joked, knowing the doctor would do no such thing.

 

Angela rolled her eyes and let out a short sigh before letting go of Lena, allowing her to hold some of her body weight up using the edge of the sink counter. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

 

“Aye aye, doc”, Lena saluted mockingly before Angela walked out and closed the door behind her. It was amazing to her how the young Overwatch agent could manage to be so silly, despite being dead less than 6 hours ago. Most people wouldn’t be able to get out of bed for a week. Actually, most people wouldn’t have come back, but even in death, Lena was unbelievably stubborn.

 

In a couple minutes, the toilet could be heard flushing on the other side of the door before the faucet turned on, Lena presumably washing her hands, before calling on Angela to come back in and help her back to the hospital room.

 

“So doc, how’s Fareeha doing?” Lena asked as Angela laid her back down on the small bed.

 

“You tell me. I’ve seen as much of her as you have since we got back.” Angela quickly responded, growing slightly irritated by Lena’s constant goading about the other woman. They were close friends, nothing more. Why that was so hard to believe, baffled the doctor.

 

“Well aren’t we a little moody today.” Lena laughed, tossing the doctor her signature shit-eating grin. “It’s okay, you know? I’m into the ladies too! Oh my god, I just realized something!”

 

“Stop.” Angela responded, afraid to hear what was about to come out of the time traveler’s mouth that was notorious for being crude.

 

“No, listen!” Lena pushed, feigning for Angela’s attention.

 

“Lena, I swear to Mondatta…”

 

“I’m thinking, if you’re still trying to figure some stuff out…”

 

“Lena. No.” Angela interrupted, acutely aware of where the conversation was going.

 

“Angela, yes! You and me? I know you’re like super old compared to me, but…”

 

“Lena, for the love of all that is good in the world, stop talking.”

 

“Oh, come on! It’d be hot! And don’t worry, I won’t make it awkward! Nothing would have to change, we could just…”

“I can not deal with you right now.”

 

“I could show you some moves? Teach you the ways of my magical tongue?” Lena teased, winking as she stuck her tongue out at the doctor.

 

“Oh my… Stop, no. Absolutely not.” Angela stepped back, waving her hands in front of her face, the thought of Fareeha’s tongue invading her own mind. Her face grew into a dark flush as she struggled to push those encroaching thoughts out of her head.

 

“Ooh, I see you blushing! I knew you had thought about me like that before! Ha!” Lena was practically yelling, giggling as she relentlessly picked on the older woman.

 

Angela attempted to compose herself as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at Lena who was still laughing at the situation. “You want a different doctor? Because I am sure _someone_ in this facility has at least some medical experience.” The look in Angela’s eyes made it obvious she was not joking.

 

“Oi, relax Ange! I’m just picking on you!” Lena smiled widely before reaching her hand outwards and poking the doctor in the stomach.

 

Angela swatted her hand away the instant it made contact with the white medical jacket she always wore in the lab, internally swearing at the invasion of her personal space at the hands of Lena. “I don’t know how I deal with you on a daily basis”, the doctor shook her head, both flustered and irritated by the speedster’s relentlessness.

 

“It’s ‘cause ya love me!” Lena grinned at the doctor, hoping for some sort of confirmation of her statement.

 

Angela simply let out a small laugh and shook her head before acknowledging Lena. “Fine, maybe I do now, but that could quickly change…”

 

“Aww, thanks, mum!”

 

“Still not your mom, but I feel a lot of pity for the poor woman who raised you.” Angela winked at Lena before spinning on her heels and walking away, effectively ignoring the younger woman’s new quips.

 

“Oi! Don’t you go bringing my mum into this!” Lena yelled as Angela exited her field of view.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Widowmaker wakes up to find Sombra in her home. Angela realizes her feelings. Tracer talks to Winston about what she remembers, and Winston thinks he has figured out who killed her.

“Vous etas un putain d’imbecile! Comment osez-vous entrer dans ma maison!”

 

An empty wine bottle soared to the far end of the room, shattering into a thousand pieces, the sheer force of the throw chipping the hard-stone wall, just barely missing the girl it was aimed at.

 

“Foutre le camp!”

 

A second bottle was thrown, this time coming much closer to its intended target, the shattering glass reflecting off the wall sending shards towards the hacker. One piece grazed her cheek, leaving a small red cut, barely deep enough to draw blood. “Hey chica, calm down! I’m just trying to help!” Sombra tried to reason, hoping to calm down the furious French woman using empty wine bottles as projectiles.

 

“Nom de dieu!” Widowmaker grabbed another bottle but was stopped short as Sombra tossed her translocator and teleported herself to the assassin’s side, grabbing her arm and effectively stopping the throw. Widowmaker didn’t backdown, whipping her leg around Sombra’s midsection and pulling the hacker down with her, her hand never leaving the neck of the bottle. Hitting the ground with a thud, she attempted to yank her arm out of Sombra’s grip, causing the hacker to clamp down harder, using her long nails to dig into the blue flesh.

 

“Aïe! Laisse-moi!”

 

“No, puta. I’m not letting go until you calm the fuck down!” Sombra yelled at her aggressor, her grip continuing to tighten around the French woman’s arm. She had dealt with situations like this before, down in the streets of Dorado, but never had she fought hand-to-hand with someone as dangerous and vicious as the woman she currently held onto. This was basically a death sentence, and all because she wanted to do the right thing and help her friend out. This was exactly why she preferred to not do the right thing.

 

“Sors de moi!” Widowmaker continued to fight, her mind acting on the instinct to survive rather than the desire to make sense of the situation. Her teeth clenched together, blood dripping from the lip she had accidentally bit down on during her fit of rage. Nothing made sense and the room was spinning. She had woken up to find someone in the room with her and instantly began to fight instead of taking the time to recognize who it was. This was the flight response that Talon had instilled on her from months of extensive torture and training.

 

“Calm down, chica! It’s just me. It’s Sombra.”

 

“Non! Je te tuerai!” Widowmaker tried to fight back but she felt abnormally weak as the room continued to spin and her brain pounded even harder in her head. From the moment she had awoken she couldn’t process colors, the world seemingly a grey landscape, but ever so slowly, hints of purple began to appear and with it, a sense of calmness and familiarity.

 

“See? It’s just me.” Sombra practically cooed as she felt the assassin’s body loosen up in her arms.

 

Widowmaker looked at her attacker’s face and finally recognized who it was holding onto her so tightly. Her vision cleared, and color returned to the room. Her already slow heart beat began to level out, closer to its usual speed, and the spinning room seemed to slow down to a crawl. “Sombra? What the hell is going on?” Widowmaker finally lowered the volume of her voice as her sanity crawled back to her.

 

Purple nails retracted from blue skin as soon as the hacker realized her friend was returning to normal. She had returned to the room to check on the sleeping assassin only to catch her when she was waking up, giving the woman no time to adjust to the new presence in her usually empty home. It was instantly down hill from there as Widowmaker resorted to her Talon ingrained protocols of attack and kill. Sombra let go of Widowmaker and pushed herself up to lean against the wall as the assassin moved over and did the same before bringing her hand to her face and applying pressure to her temples with her thumb middle finger.

 

“I was going to kill you.” Widowmaker stated, letting go of her head and bringing her hand down to her lap to join the other one. She didn’t make eye contact with the other woman, instead electing to observe the scrapes that marred her usually pristine hands.

 

“I know. Are you good now? Because, if you aren’t, I’ve still got some fight left in me.” Sombra chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. She absolutely hated serious moments like this. They were always so uncomfortable for the woman who preferred to spend most of her time behind a screen, observing people from afar.

 

“I’m… fine.” Widowmaker hesitated, still unsure of what was going on.

 

Sombra took in a deep breath then hoisted herself up, using the wall for stability, then reached her hand towards the assassin who continued to sit on the cold floor. “Come on, now. The floor is no place for a beautiful lady like you. Eres muy hermosa.” Sombra smirked while tossing the assassin a wink.

 

A snarl was the only response Sombra would be receiving as the assassin ignored her hand and pushed herself up on her own. “I don’t need your help”, she growled as she stood straight up and pushed past the hacker.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot you were too busy letting alcohol help you.” Sombra responded sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the passing by sniper.

 

“You can leave now.”

 

“Actually, I can’t. I came here to bring you back.”

 

“I am not coming back.”

 

“Gonna be honest, chica, it doesn’t sound like you have much of a say in the matter”, Sombra replied as she began to follow Widowmaker out of the room and into the library where most of the assassin’s gear was stored. “Moira misses you!”

 

“You can tell Moira that I would rather die than put up with her shit any longer.”

 

“I don’t know if she would be okay with that. Afterall, you are her favorite guinea pig. Also, death is probably what’s gonna happen to you if you defect.”

 

“I refuse to remain her guinea pig. I am the best assassin in the world! I am not some toy to be played with.” Widowmaker growled as she sifted through the military grade containers that decorated her floors.

 

“So, you’ll come back if she stops treating you like a lab rat?”

 

“Hmmm…” Widowmaker thought for a moment, “Oui. But, since she won’t ever agree to that, you can, once again, tell her I would rather be dead. Now, why are you still here? Do you need something else?”

 

“Nada. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Sombra replied, sounding almost sad at the assassin’s usual emotional distance.

 

Widowmaker sneered as she peered over her shoulder to look at the Mexican hacker who was still standing there. “I’m fine, now leave.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m so happy”, Angela muttered, feeling soft, wet kisses moving slowly down her stomach. She hadn’t felt this amazing in years, always keeping distance between herself and others when it came to intimacy. Tonight, was different. She had gone to bed after a long day in the lab, only to hear a knock on her door moments after she had laid down on the soft mattress. Upon opening the door, she found Fareeha standing there, sweating, her face a deep blush of crimson, her eye’s flowing with desire.

 

Before Angela could say hello, Fareeha grabbed onto her, pushing her body into the doctor’s while crashing their lip together. A tidal wave of lust flowed through Angela’s entire body as she felt the Egyptian’s soft lips against her own. Before she could process what was happening, she pulled Fareeha into her room, the door sliding shut behind her, her body being pulled towards the warm bed sheets.

 

Both women fell to the bed with a thud as they continued to ravage each other’s mouths. Words of encouragement were whispered as the women clung tight to one another on the small mattress. Clothing was quickly ripped off as Fareeha took control, tearing the sleepwear from Angela’ body, and kissing down the doctor’s soft skin as she went.

 

Between Angela’s muttering and the sound of Fareeha’s kisses on her stomach, that moved dangerously close to her most private parts, a soft knock on her door couldn’t be heard. As the women continued, they began to make even more noise, their naked bodies clashing together, but as they pushed forward, the knocking grew louder.

 

Suddenly, Angela could hear someone shouting her name from the other side of the door as the knocks continued, waking her from her daze. Her eye’s fluttered open and she looked down the bed where Fareeha was, only to find the other woman was no longer there. The uncomfortable wetness she felt under the sheets quickly making her aware of what exactly had just happened. A dream. It was just a dream.

 

Angela quickly sat up from the bed, blood quickly rushing to her head, bringing her cheeks to an even deeper shade of red than the dream had already caused. She hadn’t had a dream that vivid in ages, let alone a dream like that with someone like Fareeha. It was because of that talk with Lena the previous day, the doctor attempted to convince herself, still very opposed to the idea of becoming intimate with her very platonic friend.

 

As she approached the front of her room, she quickly fixed up her ruffled bed hair and tossed a robe around her, then unlocked the door, allowing it to seamlessly slide open. It was as if the dream she had just had was about to happen again. Thankfully, it was not, she told herself. “C-captian Amari”, she stuttered over her words, the images of the dream still very fresh in her brain.

 

“Um, are you okay? You’re very red. Is it a fever?” Fareeha attempted to bring her hand to the doctor’s forehead, but it was quickly swatted away.

 

“I’m fine. Just got up too fast. Headrush.”

 

“Oh, okay.” Fareeha brought her hands together behind her back, her brows furrowing and eye’s squinting in confusion at the breathlessness of the older woman. “Well, Winston asked me to come get you. Said it was strange you were still asleep. Apparently, you two are speaking to Lena today about the incident in France?” The tall Egyptian woman composed herself quickly, getting to the business at hand before becoming slave to small talk.

 

“Ahh yes, I must have slept in. How unlike me.” Angela smiled cutely as the Egyptian averted her gaze. ‘Still playing this game, are we?’ Angela said to herself, noticing Fareeha still couldn’t seem to make eye contact with her. “Is everything okay with you?”

 

Fareeha cleared her throat before responding, “Oh, yes, I’m fine. I just – I need to get back to training my men. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later.” Before Angela could blink, Fareeha had turned around and was on her way back down the hall towards the training center of the watchpoint. Angela just rolled her eyes, growing increasingly irritated by the friend who was still actively avoiding her.

 

The doctor stepped back into her room, allowing the door to slide shut, and returned to her bed to make it. In a few short minutes she collected her things and readied herself for a much needed shower. Thankfully, key Overwatch members had their own bathrooms, allowing them their own private space to clean up, away from the communal showers that the rest of the Overwatch employees had to use.

 

The shower faucet sputtered on, the cool water quickly turning warm as Angela twisted the knob to a hotter setting. She stripped of her pajamas and stepped into the steaming shower, hastily covering herself in the clean water that poured from the shower head. She let the water splatter down on her face as she slapped her cheeks, attempting to snap her out of her sleepiness. Memories of her dream, still fresh in her mind, threatened to distract her from the task at hand.

 

The logical side of her brain fought with the emotional side, telling her repeatedly that Fareeha was just a friend. Only a very good friend. One of the best she had ever had. One of the strongest, most loyal comrades by her side. Her best friend who also happened to be distractingly attractive. Her arms were strong, her dark skin was soft, her dark hair rested lightly above her shoulders, some pieces braided up to keep loose strands out of her face. And the tattoo under her eye… Angela turned the water temperature down, hoping the cold water would cool her off and stop her mind from going places she didn’t want it to go.

 

The Egyptian woman was so alluring though. She radiated this strength and coolness that Angela had never seen before, yet at the same time, she had this dorky side that only the people closest to her were allowed to see. She carried herself with dignity and honor, with care and compassion, with innocence and with a veracious allure that couldn’t be matched. She was amazing. She was spectacular. And, holy shit, Angela was so, unexplainably gay for her. 

 

Like, as gay as Lena. Possibly gayer. Okay, so maybe not that gay. Angela wasn’t even sure if that was humanly possible at this point. What was even harder to believe, however, was that she had fallen for Fareeha and she was just now coming to terms with something that, if she was honest with herself, had been culminating ever since she had returned to Overwatch after Winston had practically begged her to return.

 

She could still remember the day she arrived and saw Fareeha for the first time in years. The last time she had seen the young Egytian was at Ana’s funeral. She wasn’t even 20 years old yet and Angela could still remember the pity she felt for the young woman who had lost her mother. A lot had changed since that day, and Angela could remember how enamored she was by Fareeha when she had seen her again after so many years. She had written off her attraction as simple intrigue, but now it made so much sense. Angela was attracted to Fareeha.

 

The doctor shut off the water she had been wasting for the last several minutes and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel that was hanging on a rack nearby to dry off. What was she going to do with this new information? Was she supposed to say something? Or should see keep it inside as to not ruin her professionality in Overwatch. Of course, she had already attempted to get into Fareeha’s pants, so she could throw professionality out the door. She had already seen what her previous actions did to the girl, and it wasn’t a mistake she wanted to repeat again. She needed to talk to the Egyptian and clear the air between them. That would be a good start. She could figure out the rest from there. After all, she was Angela fucking Ziegler, the most brilliant doctor in the world. This was simple compared to the many problems she had already solved in the past.

 

* * *

 

 

Mission reports were a common occurrence when Overwatch agents returned from the field. Before the first crisis, these reports were recorded and filed by leaders in the organization, like Morrison, Reyes, and Captain Amari, but leadership had changed greatly since the reestablishment of Overwatch, leaving Winston in charge - A decision that was never officially made, but assumed when the genetically modified gorilla made the call to bring the organization back from the dead.

 

While filing reports wasn’t his favorite thing to do, he did understand the importance of keeping track of these things for both organizational and legal reasons, even if Overwatch wasn’t following the law based on its newfound existence. This report, however, was different than any he had done before. Never in the history of Overwatch had the gorilla lost someone so special to him. Everyone in the organization was important to him, but he had an especially soft spot in his heart for Lena.

 

Typing the words, _“Agent Lena Oxton, codename: Tracer, was dead for at least an hour before her body was discovered”_ was something he never wanted to type, so thankfully, the report didn’t end there. Unfortunately, Tracer’s resurrection so late after death brought up a new plethora of problems neither Winston nor Angela had dealt with before. Most agents, when resurrected by Mercy’s staff, reported feeling dizzy, lightheaded, and sometimes nauseous after being brought back, but this was only because they had been resurrected shortly after death. This wasn’t the case for Lena.

 

After many brain and body scans, Angela was able to conclude that Tracer had been dead for approximately 2 hours before being resurrected. In most cases, resurrection would be impossible, and even if it did happen, the brain would have been without oxygen for too long, causing serious and irreversible brain damage in the patient. Lena’s brain scans showed little damage, despite being dead for 2 hours, baffling Angela as she studied each minute detail in the neuroimages. The only conclusion she could come up with concerning the lack of brain damage was the probability that Lena’s time displacement condition kept her mind and body in some type of stasis.

 

Little damage didn’t mean ‘no’ damage, however, and further study would be needed before Lena could be released from the medical lab, especially concerning the spots that were abnormally dark in the magnetoencephalography scans Angela had taken earlier in the day, designed to visualize brain activity by sending magnetic waves through the brain to record electrical pulses. Areas of Lena’s brain weren’t as active as they were supposed to be, which was symptomatic of death in brain tissue cells when oxygen wasn’t present for an extended period of time. Winston typed out each detail of Lena’s condition as Angela recounted her findings to him, before continuing to Lena’s room to hear her side of the story, or at least, what she could remember of it.

 

Lena’s eyes brightened up at the site of her furry friend slouching through the doorway of her temporary room, but her body was still too weak to jump up and greet him with her usual hug. “Hey, big guy”, she said while smiling at him with a toothy grin.

 

“Lena”, Winston smiled back, “It is good to see you awake and smiling”, He continued, elated that his friend was alive and okay, despite what she had just gone through the day before. “How are you feeling this morning?”

 

“Bored shitless. You?” Lena sighed, wishing she was back in the field instead of sitting around in a hospital room, surrounded by boring furniture and the scent of isopropyl alcohol. In fact, she would rather be back in France drinking at a sad excuse for a pub.

 

“Well, at least you aren’t dead!”, Winston exclaimed, failing at his attempt to make light of a serious situation.

 

Lena laughed anyways, knowing how scary it must have been for Winston to receive the call that one of his closest friends had died. “Might as well be, ‘cause this is hell”, the time traveler winked despite her equally bad attempt to lighten the situation.  

 

“Heh, well I know this isn’t exactly fun, but I need to ask you for your official mission report.” Winston continued, getting down to the business at hand.

 

“I already told Angela, I don’t really remember what happened.” Lena shrugged.

 

“Not even who did this to you?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Hmm…” Winston rubbed his furry chin with his hand before continuing his questions. “Anything you _do_ remember?”

 

“I’ll give you what I can”, Lena started. “I checked into my hotel when I got to the worlds shittiest vacation destination. Then went to the pub for a drink to make the place more bearable and hopefully pick up some chicks.”

 

Winston groaned at Lena’s unnecessary information before urging her on, with a nod of his head, to continue.

“I do remember making eye contact with this attractive woman with long hair, but she ran off before I could ask her back to my room.” Lena smirked as she continued to inappropriately explain each detail, knowing how uncomfortable human sexuality made the gorilla. “But after that, I had another drink then I left.”

 

“Do you remember anything specific about the woman?”

 

“It was too dark to see details. Like I said, she had long hair and she appeared to be attractive. Her hair was dark and she was tall and skinny, but that is all I could make out. At first, I thought her skin was kind of blue like Widowmaker’s, but I figured that was because of the lighting. Actually… now that I think of it, it did seem a bit strange the way she rushed out of the place when she saw me looking at her… You don’t think it could have been the blue bitch, do you?” Lena’s eye’s widened at the realization that the woman she had seen could have possibly been the assassin.

 

“I can’t believe I forgot! I knew that town name sounded familiar! We had a cargo ship headed there to drop off supplies at a local hospital, which is why we chose to send you there. We knew it would be a nice chance to get out of the base and then we would have an agent in case something bad happened with the supply delivery.” Winston explained to the suddenly confused Brit.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sending me there for a mission!?” Lena questioned, growing frustrated by the lack of communication with her before the trip.

 

“Because I didn’t send you there for a mission. I wanted you to get out of here and do something fun for once instead of sulking around the base with nothing to do, and it just so happened that we had a place for you to go. I didn’t want to send you there thinking it was a business trip.” Winston continued, hoping to settle the young woman down. “Anyways, that isn’t important. What is important is the relevance of the location!” The gorilla grew excited as he realized that Lena may have had an encounter with the assassin.

 

“Annecy is where Amelie’s family is from. They were a family of high nobility many decades ago. They even owned a small island in the middle of Lake Annecy, but it has been abandoned since the omnic crisis. Technically, Amelie was a baroness of the family before she became Widowmaker. If my guess is correct, she is the rightful heir and owner of the chateau. Lena, I think you had a run in with Widowmaker.” Winston realized.

 

“Wait… Chateau Guillard? Baroness? Are you talking about that giant stone house in the middle of that lake near the hotel?” Lena was in slight shock as she too began to understand the connection.

 

“Yes. That’s the place!”

 

“Now that I think about it, I kind of remember being there… But I can’t seem to remember anything else…” Lena wracked her brain, struggling to remember the details of that night. “But I don’t understand. Widowmaker wouldn’t kill me.”

 

Winston raised a brow at that statement, “Lena, she killed Mondatta, she almost killed Ana, she has killed many of our agent and hundreds of innocent people in the past. What makes you think she wouldn’t kill you too?”

 

“Because, she had the chance before, but she didn’t take it. I remember the way she looked at me after she killed Mondatta. She never had any intention of killing me. Maybe some of Amelie is still in there?” Lena questioned, growing hopeful at the possibility that the worlds greatest assassin wasn’t as resilient or evil after all.

 

“Impossible. There is no way. She is an entirely different person since she disappeared. She’s probably the one who killed Gerard, her own husband.” Winston argued, rubbing his chin again as he organized his thoughts.

 

“Time travel was impossible. Resurrecting the dead was impossible. Who’s to say Amelie isn’t still in there somewhere?” Lena argued back, the loudness of her voice raising as she questioned the possibility that one of her biggest enemies wasn’t exactly as she seemed. “Winston, what if she’s still in there?”

 

“Even if she was, it wouldn’t matter. The blood of so many innocent lives is on her hands. She would still have to pay for what she has done.”

 

“But what if it wasn’t her fault? What if she became Widowmaker because Talon did something to her? I had met Amelie several times before she disappeared. She wasn’t the type of person who would kill her husband and become an assassin by choice, mate. That doesn’t make sense.”

 

“I’m sorry Lena, but I doubt that is the case. I know how much you want to save everyone, even those who do evil, but not everyone can be saved.” Winston lowered his head, feeling bad for practically stomping on Lena’s entire perception of life.

 

“Whatever. All I’m saying is that I don’t think it was her. At least, I’m not convinced…” Lena pondered, still struggling to remember what happened the other night.

 

Winston shook his head before pushing his glasses back up his nose. “I’m sorry Lena, but Widowmaker has given us no reason to think she wouldn’t kill you. Can you remember anything else?”

 

“Sorry, mate, but that’s all I’ve got.” Tracer finished, unable to recall any more details. “But hey, could you do me a favor and get Angie in here? My head is killing me…” Lena asked as she brought her hand to her head and rubbed the back of it, wincing slightly in the process.

 

“I’ll let her know. Now, rest up. And try not to give the doc too hard of a time.” Winston snickered as he stepped back towards the door leading out to the lab.

 

“Heh, only in her dreams, big guy!”

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings are finally revealed.

Angela was starving after spending the last several hours studying brain scans to figure out exactly what sections of Lena's brain were most damaged during the time she had been officially dead. Initial scans showed several dark spots around the amygdala, explaining why Lena had felt slightly depressed and anxious after coming back to life, but there was still much more to examine, and Angela struggled to notice every small detail when her stomach kept reminding her that she hadn't eaten since yesterday.

The doctor administered more pain medication for Lena's headaches before she left, leaving the Brit in the medical unit to rest while the doctor grabbed some much-needed food from the cafeteria. If she was lucky, Fareeha would be there. The Egyptian continued to avoid Angela after they left France and was practically impossible to locate in the large building, especially when Angela didn't have the time to look. She needed to talk to the other woman. She couldn't stand wondering if she had hurt Fareeha, especially now that she had finally realized that what she felt for the Egyptian was much deeper than she had originally imagined.

As she entered the cafeteria, she spotted the dark hair and strong back of the woman she was hoping so desperately to find, sitting at a table in the back, picking at the food on her tray. Angela went to the salad bar and threw together some spinach, chicken, and dressing, then hastily moved towards the woman sitting by herself in the opposite side of the room.

"Good afternoon, Captain", the doctor spoke as she sat down at the table across from Fareeha who was still uninterestingly poking at the food on her plate. Fareeha glanced up, and without responding, quickly dropped her fork, grabbed her tray, and moved to stand up. Unfortunately for her, Angela was expecting this, and grabbed the other woman's arm before she had the chance to lift the tray of mostly untouched food.

"No. Stay." Angela said, giving Fareeha a stern look, making it obvious she wasn't messing around. She may have been a gentle doctor, but no one dared getting on her bad side just in case she decided to put her pistol to use.

"I need to go. Sorry", Fareeha responded as she tried to pull away from the angelic doctor whose grip held tight, despite her fragile frame.

"I checked your schedule earlier today. You don't have anything you are required to attend until later tonight. So please, sit." Angela motioned her other hand to the seat across from her as she continued to hold tight to the Egyptian woman.

"Fine, Dr. Ziegler. What would you like to talk about?" Fareeha tried to seem unbothered by the forced interaction, but her soft smile struggled to reach her eyes.

"You've been avoiding me for days. What's going on? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Angela began, finally releasing her grip on Fareeha's forearm and looking genuinely into her eyes.

Fareeha stared down at her plate of barely touched food, avoiding contact with Angela's eyes. "I've just been busy, is all. A lot on my mind between training a new crew and what happened to Lena."

"You've had more going on before, but always seemed to make time for me despite that. Just tell me why you are avoiding me, and I will let you continue about your day, undisturbed." Angela continued looking at the girl across from her, hoping she could at least get s _omething_ out of her.

"I haven't been avoiding you…" Fareeha lied, praying Angela would drop it, but knowing the stubborn doctor was not about to let her go without some sort of explanation.

"Bullshit."

Fareeha quickly glanced at Angela, her eye going wide, surprised to hear her using the language she mostly used on the rare occasions she drank. "I-I… Okay, fine. But I don't want to talk about it." Fareeha stumbled over her words, blushing faintly before looking back down at her food.

"Is this still about the other night? I told you I was sorry for behaving like that, and you seemed to accept it." Angela tried, wishing Fareeha would look up at her to see the sincerity in her eyes.

"It's not… It's not that…" Fareeha spoke, barely above a whisper.

"The what is it? What really happened? I don't remember that night, so you must be remembering something that I can't." Angela asked again, ignoring the Egyptians obvious discomfort.

"It was nothing. It just surprised me is all…" Fareeha attempted to make an excuse, her hand returning to the fork she had previously set down, fidgeting with it to keep her nerves under control.

"If it truly were nothing, you wouldn't be behaving like this." Angela had a good point. If Fareeha truly believed the words she was saying, she wouldn't be acting so strange. Fareeha didn't respond, unable to think of an adequate excuse to stop Angela's questioning.

"Just tell me this. Why didn't we go any further than just kissing?" Angela was persistent, searching for an answer that Fareeha did not want to Admit. "Fareeha, it's okay. You can tell me. If I did something wrong, I need to know." Angela looked up to the Egyptian with worry in her eyes, grabbing the fork from Fareega's hands and setting it down on the table, before filling the empty space with her own hand.

"Let me guess. I, the great life-saving doctor, fell asleep in the middle of it?" Angela let out a slight chuckle, shaking her head and looking down back at her plate of food, hoping to alleviate some of the tension.

"No, you didn't pass out. I just... left. You were very drunk, and I didn't want to do anything I knew you would regret in the morning..."

"Who says I would have regretted it?" Angela asked, curious to how Fareeha had come to that conclusion.

"Hmm, maybe because you have made it very clear that women do not interest you? I didn't want to push it. Not in the state you were in. Now can we stop talking about this and just eat?" Pharah looked frustratingly down at the food before her, picking up her fork with her empty hand and forcing a big bite down, hoping a full mouth would keep her from speaking.

"Fareeha... I am sorry I put you through that the other night."

"It's fine, now please, can we just drop it?" The Egyptian was growing increasingly frustrated, but Angela refused to stop.

"No."

"No?"

"No, I will not drop it. Not until I see that frown go away." Angela responded, making it clear that she wasn't going to let the Egyptian woman leave the table before resolving the issue. "Please Fareeha, just be honest with me. I know you are a woman with strong morals, but it still seems strange to me that you would have said no when I seemed to want what I was asking for, then avoid me so adamantly even after we had both agreed that it was nothing to stress over.

"Angela, I swear to the gods I do not want to talk about this anymore." Fareeha's frustration was beginning to show clearly as she continued to dodge Angela's undying questions.

"I do want to talk about it, though! Just tell me why." Angela kept prodding, knowing how much she was irritating the Egyptian, but also acutely aware of how close the woman was to breaking and telling the truth.

"There is nothing to talk about. No why." Pharah responded, her voice steadily rising in volume as she pulled her hand out of Angela's grip.

"You're lying to me. I can tell when you're hiding something."

"Angela, I'm serious. Stop."

"Fareeha, I'm serious. Tell me what the real reason was."

"Angela Zeigler, would you please for the love of the gods, drop it."

"Oh, so we are bringing out the full names here, huh? Fareeha Amari, just tell me the truth."

"Would you please stop with whatever the fuck you are doing!? I have nothing more to say! Pharah was almost yelling now, grabbing the attention of other Overwatch employees in the vicinity.

"I just want you to be honest with me! That's it!" Angela's voice began to match the volume of the taller woman's, drawing even more attention from passerby's and people seated at tables nearby. "I've known you since you were a kid, and I refuse to leave this awkward space between us. Plus, I miss talking to you. You're one of my closest friends in this place." Angela pleaded, hoping Fareeha would finally break.

"Oh, that's it? You just want me to be honest?" Pharah was yelling now, the two women creating quite the scene in the small cafeteria lounge.

"Yes! Just please tell me the truth! Why are you avoiding me?"

"Because I felt weird. That's it!"

"I know you, Amari. I know there is more that you aren't saying. Just spit it out!"

The whole cafeteria was staring at the pair yelling at each other from across the table, unaware of the attention they had stirred up.

"Fuck you, Ziegler!"

"We are resorting to cursing now? Well then, fuck you too, Amari!"

Guards stood by, ready to jump in if the conversation went further than a yelling match.

"Fareeha, please." Angela pleaded, lowering her voice. "I want to make this better. Please just be honest with me. You know you always can be."

"No I can't. Not for this." Fareeha argued back, refusing to let up.

"Yes you can! What do you mean, 'not for this'?" Angela was back to yelling, drawing the attention of the resident gorilla as he slouched past the cafeteria doorway.

"You know what? Fine! Fucking fine!" Fareeha yelled back, hastily standing up from her seat and getting into the doctor's face. "I didn't sleep with you because you were drunk and I didn't want to do something like that when you wouldn't remember! That's not how I wanted my first time with you to be! Even if it was the only chance I had to finally show you how absolutely fucking attracted I am to you!"

"Y-you're attracted to me?" Angela's voice quieted as her heart began to beat rapidly in her chest. 

"Yes…" Fareeha responded, lowering her voice in return and switching her gaze to the table, shying away from the doctor's stare. "I like you, Dr. Ziegler. A lot. You're my best friend, so of course I love you, but I know you aren't attracted to women, and I didn't want to tell you because I don't want to make our friendship awkward…" Tears began to form in the dark eyes of the strong woman standing across from the doctor.

"Fareeha… I'm so sorry. I didn't know." Angela responded, slowly bringing her hand to the Egyptians face to cup her cheek.

"And you weren't ever supposed to..." Fareeha responded back, her arms she had planted to the table, shaking slightly, nerves getting the best of her.

The room grew so quiet, the sound of a dropping pin from the other side of the cafeteria could have been heard. Fareeha and Angela stood there, staring at each other, Fareeha caught in shock at what she just admitted and Angela equally as shocked by what she just heard.

Then suddenly, out of the quiet of the large space, small hands could be heard clapping in the distance. The claps got louder as the girl clapping stood on top of the table and looked directly at Fareeha and Angela.

Hana Song. Leave it up to the 19-year-old to break the awkward silence with clapping.

"Ha! Now _that_ was a confession!" Hana cheered out as she continued to clap. Suddenly, other people in the room began to join in, and even Mei could be seen standing up on the table next to the Japanese mech pilot, clapping her hands too.

Angela and Fareeha still sat there, both of their faces a bright red hue, shocked and confused by what was going on as everyone in the room clapped around them, and they finally noticed their conversation had attracted a crowd.

"Enough!" The load roar from the silverback gorilla silenced the room in an instant, as Winston stepped into the room and walked towards the two women causing such a commotion, their heads snapping around at the same time to face him.

"Ladies, please come with me. Now." The scientist was very obviously angry about the behavior of the women and some of the people in the room, and the energy from his quick glare at and Mei just about knocked them off the table they were standing on.

* * *

 

"You two are leaders! You're supposed to be an example to Overwatch employees and your team members! Hana doesn't need to be looking up to grown adults who fight like children in the middle of the cafeteria!" Winston was livid, going off on how immature the two lady's actions were and how they should be leading an example as important figures of the organization.

"I sincerely apologize Winston. It's my fault. It wasn't the place or time for that conversation." Angela responded, trying to calm down the hulking gorilla.

"This is true. It was her fault."

"Fareeha..." Winston said, rubbing his nose under the bar of his glasses.

"Er, I-I mean, I'm sorry too... won't happen… again…" Pharah finally gave in, admitting at least some fault in the situation.

"Now please, take the matters of your relationship and discuss them in a private setting, first, may I suggest cooling off by youselves?" Winston said, much calmer than he had been just a couple minutes before, dismissing the two women from his lab.

The ladies walked in silence towards the dormitory hall each seemingly to their respective rooms. However, as Fareeha walked towards her room at the end of the hall, she noticed Mercy had not stopped to enter her own room. She was still following her. As Pharah reached the door and brought her hand up to the keypad to unlock it, she stopped for a moment to look back at Angela.

"What are you doing?" Pharah asked, confused by the doctor's presence. "I thought we were going to cool down?"

"I can't." Mercy quickly responded as she looked down at Fareeha's hands, here face as red as a tomato.

"Look, don't worry about me. I'm fine. It's okay. I just hope this won't change anything between us…" Fareeha responded as she keyed in the code and unlocked the door. But before she could open it on her own, Angela had grabbed the handle and pushed both Fareeha and herself inside of the room.

The door shut quickly as Fareeha was pushed into the back of it, producing a loud slamming noise.

"You're wrong, you know." Angela said as she held the Egyptian woman against the door.

"What do you mean I'm wrong?" Pharah asked, entirely uncomfortable, the doorknob painfully pushing against her lower back.

"You said it wasn't what I wanted. That sex wasn't what I wanted with you because I'm not attracted to women. You were wrong. Of course, I wanted it. I may have never displayed much interest in women before, but it's not like I have made time for men either. Just because I was drunk, didn't mean I didn't know what I was doing. Yet you decided to walk out of the room instead of doing what I wanted."

"You were hammered! What would you expect me to do? Wait…" Fareeha was instantly caught off guard as Angela's words processed through her brain.

"You're right. And I admire you for your strength and what you did. But now, I feel like I am going crazy, and I really want to fuck you." Angela whispered as she closed the space between herself and the woman she had pinned to the door.

"Wait, wait, wait… What?" Fareeha was shocked by what she just heard. She wasn't even sure if she had heard it correctly. There was no way those words were coming out of the mouth of a professional, sober, and straight Angela.

"You heard me, you beautiful, oblivious, dork." Angela smirked wildly as she quickly moved her face towards Fareeha's, stealing a deep kiss while her body collided roughly with the other woman's. Fareeha's disbelief was finally suspended in that moment. Mercy shoved her against the door even harder, wrapping her arms around the taller woman's waist, furiously kissing Pharah's lips, her tongue pushing into the woman's mouth, begging for entrance.

Fareeha could feel the doorknob pushing into her lower back even harder, but she didn't care. She took in Angela's lips and melted into each kiss, allowing her tongue to dance with the beautiful doctor's. They continued to kiss roughly before Angela removed her mouth from Fareeha's and contined to kiss down Fareeha's face, stopping at the faded bruises on the Egyptian's neck from a couple night's before and kissing them softly.

Pharah let Mercy take the lead in the moment, knowing full well that whatever Mercy did to her, she would like. Mercy pulled Pharah away from the door, finally relieving the pain from the doorknob and pushed her onto the bed. She then tore her own shirt off over her head while Fareeha unclipped her bra, allowing the angel's breasts to fall out of the now loose padding. She pulled the bra off the rest of the way and threw it to the floor, wasting no time.

Angela leaned over Fareeha and began kissing her again, lowering her body low enough so that Fareeha could feel the Swiss woman's breast lightly tickling her own, muscular chest.

Angela moved her body downwards as she grabbed the bottom of Fareeha's shirt and pulled it up over her head, kissing up her muscular stomach as she slowly pulled the shirt off. She then went for the bra, pulling its stretchy fabric over the athletic woman's shoulders and head.

Quickly, with a pull that seemed stronger in that moment than the earth's gravity, Angela brought her mouth down to the Egyptians breasts and began to suck, while kneading the opposite with her hand. She worked her way over the entirety of Fareeha's chest, kissing and exploring every inch of her naked torso like it was the last time she would ever be able to do this.

"Angela..." Fareeha attempted to stop Angela for just a moment. "I'm so confused. Why this so suddenly?"

"I don't know." Angela breathlessly said, taking a moment to stop her exploring and look back up at the soldier. "I don't exactly know why, but I need this. And not just from anyone; from you. I too have feelings for you; I can't ignore that anymore." And with that, the Egyptian smiled joyously and dropped the questioning, allowing Angela to continue her exploration of the Egyptians curves.

The woman was stunning. There was really no surprise that a normally straight woman would become attracted to her. Her strong demeanor, her handsome face, and her muscular body, made it easy for even the straightest of women to question themselves, but she still carried some of the soft and curvaceous features of a woman. Features that Angela seemed to be thoroughly enjoying.

Angela, on the other hand, reflected her own name. She walked like an angel, spoke like an angel, looked like an angel, and even acted like an angel. Her blonde hair glowed on the battlefield, the white Valkyrie suit and wings impossible to ignore as she floated around the battlefield, healing her allies as though her life depended on it.

Anyone would love to be in Fareeha's shoes, but no one had been quite that lucky in a while. She was an angel. Fareeha was about to make sweet, sweet love with an angel.

Pharah snapped out of her thoughts as she felt smooth skin coming dangerously close to her center. And before Angela could continue any further, she was grabbed by her arms and swiftly flipped over onto her back, Fareeha's strong arms easily turning the smaller woman over and taking charge.

There was no turning back. Fareeha was about to do everything she had ever imagined she would do with the beautiful doctor laying beneath her. She quickly removed the black pants Angela wore when she was on the job and went to work. Spending time exploring the Swiss doctor's body, pushing her to the edge with only the strong kisses of the Egyptian woman above her.

"Please, Phar... aahh, please."

"Please what?" Pharah teasingly stopped what she was doing and looked up to see the doctors face redder than it had ever been before.

"Just fuck me already!"

"Patience is a virtue, Doctor Ziegler."

"Oh, for fucks sake why are you doing this to…" Before Mercy could finish her sentence, the Egyptian went back to work, bringing her face dangerously close to the willing doctors most sensitive spot.

Pharah gently kissed the increasingly wet area as she began to pull off Angela's underwear, sending deep shivers up the woman's spine.

It was time. The moment they had both been eagerly waiting for. Pharah threw Mercy's legs over her shoulders and grabbed her hips, pulling her pink lips towards her mouth, then delved deep into the folds of the beautiful Angel beneath her.

This was more than enough for Angela, as she grabbed Fareeha's head and began to grind her lower body, roughly, into the Egyptian woman's face, practically screaming out sounds of immense pleasure, confirming to Fareeha that she was doing well at her job.

Fareeha stopped as Angela came close, coaxing whimpering and begging from the blonde woman's mouth as she did so. She quieted the complaining as she brought her lips back up to the other woman's mouth and effortlessly slipped two fingers inside of the doctor, then began thrusting while using her thumb to massage quick circles over her bundle of nerves.

Angela kept thrusting her hips down on Fareeha's hand as she began to reach her climax. Fareeha didn't stop, and the doctor below her let out long sounds of pleasure as she finally hit her climax, taking in the wonderful feelings that reverberated throughout her entire body, before coming back to reality.

It wasn't over yet though, as Angel quickly decided to return the favor. She sat up, pushed Fareeha back, and began to run circles over the Egyptians most private spot. Fareeha shot straight up as she felt shock after shock of pleasure hitting her to her core. Her back arched inwards as she flung her head back in pleasure. Angela had one arm around the Egyptians waist and the other one furiously rubbing away, taking quick breaks to push a couple fingers inside and back out.

After many more kisses and touches, the two clumsily rolled off the bed onto the floor, knocking the lamp off the bedside table with the energy of the thud that came from the two bodies crashing to the ground.

They didn't stop.

Angela kept working, eventually rolling back on top of Fareeha, bringing her face down to the younger woman's most sensitive place. She sucked on the darker flesh, her lips melding with Fareeha's, finally pushing the Egyptian to release herself into the blonde woman's mouth.

"Oh… An-angela!" Fareeha yelled out as she let herself go with the doctor's help. As she eased out of her orgasm, reality hit with what just happened and she looked up, directly into the eyes of the woman who had just made her feel so amazing, and smiled, pulling the Swiss woman's chin towards her own and kissing her with a deep passion that Angela had never felt before.

The two women laid in each other's arms on the floor, surrounded by articles of their clothing that had been hastily thrown off not too long ago, attempting to catch their breaths. Pharah stroked the blonde hair that laid messily on her naked, heaving chest as she reached down and kissed the beautiful angel on the forehead.

They had a lot to talk about and figure out, but that could wait. For now, they relaxed in the afterglow of the intense love they had just made, resting peacefully, with their naked limbs tangled and the soft breaths Mercy exhaled and inhaled as she attempted to compose herself.


End file.
